


Freedom's Land

by Bythoseburningembers



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka is the greatest Padawan ever known, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin is oblivious, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, Best Friends, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brothers, Closure, Friendship, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Master Gallia has a score to settle, Obi-wan doesn't like the healers, Padme and Anakin are a well-known Secret, References to the Jedi Council (Star Wars), The Clones are dragged into this, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bythoseburningembers/pseuds/Bythoseburningembers
Summary: Set After The Slaves of Zyggeria. Anakin and Ahsoka have a long-overdue discussion about Shmi Skywalker. Ahsoka is inspired to try and end slavery as a gift for her Master. She drags Obi-wan, Padme and half the galaxy along for the ride.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 139
Kudos: 797
Collections: Star Wars





	1. The Talk

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm going through a thing, ok? So I just keep writing Star Wars fluff because its all I can do right now.

Anakin was being clingy again.

Really, it wasn’t altogether new. On a normal basis, her master tended to be over-protective, seeing it not only his duty to instruct her in the Jedi Way, but to ensure that she made it there with minimal scarring. Ahsoka was almost always grateful, even if his attempts sometimes clashed with her natural yearning for independence.

This, however, was not so much protectiveness as a sort of moving meditation. Anakin did that too. He couldn’t sit still when he communed with the Force. He was, as Master Plo had often bemoaned, always on the move.

This was not the first time that he had used her as an anchor. Ahsoka watched him from the corners of her eyes as his fingers slid carefully over the bruises on her back and upper shoulders, smoothing Bacta unto the sensitive and hard-to-reach places. His physical body moved, but his mind and heart were submerged deep within the Force, two glowing stars amidst a hurling storm of emotion.

When Ahsoka had first begun her apprenticeship, the intimacy of bandaging wounds had made her uncomfortable. After all, her upraising in the Temple had been warm, filled with innocent light, but intimacy? Not so much. Anakin was different that way too. He wore his heart plain and open for all to see, and often translated the complicated affections within into touch.

Besides, this was war, and in war, they had seen each other in much more compromising positions. Ahsoka hissed when his hands trailed over a particularly swollen patch of skin on her left shoulder. Anakin halted there, eyelids fluttering as he half-woke. The Force shifted, questioning.

“You’ve got a pretty bad gash here, Snips,” he reported quietly. His eyes were focused, hawk-like, his face schooled into contemplation and acute worry. Ahsoka released a slow breath. She, too, was trying to plunge into the Force’s welcome relief, but Anakin’s _oncoming storm_ made it difficult.

“Will it scar?” She asked.

His eye twitched. He hated it when she was hurt. The storm’s clouds gathered around them, promising torrential downpour on the Zyggerians, the universe and any other Sith-forsaken Sleemo unfortunate enough to land a hit on her. Anakin’s thoughts, not hers. He was projecting again. “Probably.”

“Jealous, are you?” She teased as Anakin’s hands fumbled in the dark toward her utility belt. It hung off the side of her bunk, the numerous pouches bulging with suturing kits, extra bandages and rations, the spare money she always kept on hand. “At this rate, I’ll have more badges of honor than you, Sky-Guy,” her tone eased some of the tension in Anakin’s face. He rolled his eyes.

“I think I’m still a few steps ahead of you there, Ahsoka,” he replied, waving his prosthetic. He finally nabbed her belt; and held up the suturing kit. “And don’t you dare try and show me up,” he warned. Ahsoka harrumphed. “Besides, you’ve certainly accrued more wrinkles than I have, so I’d say we’re equal.”

“Hey!” Ahsoka squeaked, partly to cover up the undignified grunt of pain as Anakin slid a needle into her skin. Her pain did not go unnoticed. Anakin scowled again, easing the needle through with a gentle efficiency that would have surprised anyone who had crossed blades with him.

“I’m proud of you today, Ahsoka,” Anakin continued, quietly. The only light in the room came from the dull blue glow of the hovering lantern on Anakin’s bedside. They were alone in their shared quarters. Across the room, two empty bunks gawped at them in the gloom. Masters Plo and Kenobi were still in a Council meeting. Ahsoka suspected that Obi-wan had made himself scarce so he could avoid Anakin fussing over his injuries as well.

_Way to leave a comrade behind, Master_ , she thought.

“I only did what you taught me to do,” she offered, though his approval warmed her heart. It was near impossible to impress her master. Praise from him was rarer than a Mustafarian gem.

“You did more than that,” Anakin argued, tying the last stitch into place. He patted a bit of antiseptic onto the spot, eliciting another hiss as she tensed. He squeezed her shoulder, briefly. “You kept your calm in a difficult and humiliating situation; and turned your focus on others. Not many Jedi could spend a few days in _true slavery_ like you did, and still act with honor,” there was an undercurrent of bitterness there. Or maybe…A sense of superiority?

Ahsoka once would have been concerned that this was Anakin’s unbecoming emotions again. However, having spent the past week as a personal slave to Zyggerian scum, she no longer had any doubt about the truth of Anakin’s words. Jedi were trained to survive any number of hardships and degradations. Yet slavery was… Something else. Something that carved scars deeper than other types of oppression.

_So… Er, how am I supposed to broach **this** subject?_

Anakin was an admirer of the straight-forward and aggressive, so… “Master Obi-wan told me. About your past. About being a slave,” she finally blurted. Anakin’s hand paused, curled into a fist. The storm around him crackled with a sudden bout of lightning.

Her breath caught. She was pretty sure that across the ship, Master Obi-wan was grateful not to be in the near vicinity. Ahsoka partially turned to see the damage, wincing as she did so. Anakin was looking away. His chest rose and fell slowly as he sought to control his unbridled rage. “That was _not_ his secret to tell,” he finally growled.

“I’m _glad_ he told me,” Ahsoka insisted. “I had… Kind of figured it out anyway.” After all, everyone knew that Anakin had come to the Jedi with all the blundering commotion of a bantha herd. Too old, not yet trained, uneducated, replete with memories of his former life and from a planet in the rough outer rim. This mission had only cemented her suspicions.

_“Remind me again why **I’m** playing the part of the slave?”_

_“I tried it once. I wasn’t any good at it.”_

“Master, you know that… That I think no less of you?” She reached forward, hesitantly, to lay a hand on his own. A vein leapt in his jaw.

“I still don’t want to _talk_ about it.”

“Then you don’t have too,” she agreed. If there was one thing she had to come to understand, it was that sometimes secrets were not only necessary to keep the peace during missions, but between people. They all had secrets. The entire Order, every member. Perhaps it was this that kept them sane. “I just wanted to tell you that… Well, that I’m proud of you too. This mission couldn’t have been easy for you.” Anakin snorted and swiped away the remaining bandages and tweezers with more force than was necessary. 

“Way to put it mildly,” he replied darkly. Ahsoka watched him discard the bloody bandages and tools warily. She weighed the consequences of letting this… emptiness remained untended. Allowing Anakin to stew in his own terrible memories alone.

Finally, heart pounding, she turned around and pulled her shirt back on, careful not to let the fabric catch on her new stitches. “What was her name?” Anakin stopped. Arched a brow. “Your mother.”

He fell silent, and Ahsoka feared that she had just crossed a dangerous boundary. She flushed at her own insensitivity and opened her mouth to apologize. “Shmi,” her master whispered. They did not meet eyes. Ahsoka just settled herself on the bottom bunk, propped her chin on one knee.

“Shmi,” she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. _Well, we got this far. May as well keep going._ “What was she like?”

Anakin’s eyes were far-away. In the Force, his presence changed. It was small, like a tiny ripple amongst a tsunami, but it was there. A quiet spattering of peace, wholly untouched by rage or time. “She was… Kind,” Anakin began. “The most generous person I’ve ever known. We had nothing. _Nothing._ Not even our own bodies were ours, yet she could not watch someone go without if it was in her power to help,” a soft exhalation, tender.

“She was exhausted all the time, sore, beaten. But strong, strong enough not to fear the future or dwell on the past. Strong enough to give me a chance at a better life, even knowing she would spend the rest of hers in slavery,” Anakin’s voice wavered. The storm around him whipped against the shore of his restraint. Ahsoka pretended not to see the lone tear drip from his chin. “And _she did_. Only death freed her. I buried her beneath the sands that tortured us, and there she is still. Forgotten.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anakin’s sigh was bone-weary. “Everyone is,” he said. “All across the galaxy, there are thousands more who suffer the same fate right now, Ahsoka. Who will only be freed through death. It isn’t right,” his fist clenched. The lantern trembled in the air, as if struck by thunder. “It needs _to end.”_

Ahsoka decided it was not wise to repeat what she had been taught. The Jedi existed to promote peace and justice across the galaxy, to protect the innocent… However, their talents could only _touch_ the horizon of evil in the universe. They couldn’t free every slave in existence. She…Understood the wisdom of that, and it twisted in her gut.

She couldn’t imagine what it did to Anakin. “I know we can’t save everyone,” she said, slowly. “But… We can try. If you want, I’ll be right there beside you while we do.”

Anakin’s mouth curved into a slow smile. His face was half hidden by shadow as he glanced at her. “You remind me of her sometimes. You’re just as selfless as she was,” Ahsoka’s cheeks were suddenly hot. She ducked her head.

“Is that… Good?”

“On certain days, it’s the only thing that keeps me alive, Snips,” he replied. He looked up, as if just realizing where he was and what they were talking about. He shook his head. “Alright, that’s enough reminiscing for tonight. We should, uh, get some rest.” Ahsoka nodded. Part of her was relieved that the conversation was over.

The other part of her was… Sad? Yes. Sad that it had to end. Ahsoka had no recollection of her birth parents. Master Plo was the closest she had, actually. Anakin, even in his moments of over-protectiveness, still felt more akin to an older sibling. Besides, by the loosened knot in the Force, she felt as if she had just helped her master. Maybe allowed him to release a burning emotion that he had kept secret for too long.

She laid down on the bunk and struggled to ignore the persistent itch of her wounds. The memories of crying children and the crack of an electro-whip. Anakin climbed into the bunk above her, one hand sweeping over her hand, comforting, light as a feather’s touch. The light flickered out of existence. They fell into darkness, together, two hawks diving into an unknown cavern. 

They did that often enough, but tonight – if only so he could find peace for _one night_ – Ahsoka slowed their descent. “Master?”

Said person shifted. Sighed heavily. “Go to _sleep_ Ahsoka.”

“If your mother – Shmi - could have met me, what do you think she would have said?”

She sensed that the question surprised him, even as it did not seem to cause any more pain. Anakin gave it some thought. “She would have said… That you’re fearless, so cunning it’s scary, the most stubborn bantha head to ever live,” a quiet huff of laughter. “She would have thought you were beautiful.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka peeped. She thought for a moment, let her eyes drift closed. “I would have thanked her for lending you to us,” a slow smile spread over her face. “For like, the next two years before old age catches up to you, Sky-guy.”

Anakin’s startled laughter was watery. The Force twinkled with his dual amusement and affection, two feathers twirling around each other in a dancing wind. Ahsoka nuzzled into her thin pillow, pleased with herself. Not just anyone could make the fabled Chosen One laugh _and_ cry. “Dammit Ahsoka,” he chuckled, voice dripping with fondness. “Go to kriffing sleep.”

“Yes master.”


	2. Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka goes to her grand-master for assistance. Obi-wan ropes in Padme. Now we have a power team.

Two rotations later, Ahsoka was able to track down Master Kenobi in the Temple while Anakin was preoccupied at the Senate Building. Ahsoka had given up trying to fool herself into believing he had actual business there. He was probably speaking with the Chancellor or visiting Padme.

Ahsoka had sworn those facts to secrecy. Besides, the past two days had given her time to mull over their conversation after Zyggeria. It was time to try and save everyone, but she did not doubt that she would need help. Master Kenobi was, of course, her first choice.

Even if he was in the middle of… Er… Aggressive negotiations.

“Bant, I’m fine, truly,” he was saying when Ahsoka poked her head around the corner. She caught sight of him, still covered with bruises ranging from purple to sickly yellow from his own misadventures on Zyggeria. _I see the bruises have done nothing to dull his propensity for trouble,_ she observed dryly. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway to watch. “There’s really no need.”

“Oh, for Force _sakes,_ Obi-wan!” Bant steamed. She aimed the syringe at Obi-wan’s face threateningly. The Jedi master ducked the jab and attempted to spin past her, but Bant caught him by the back of his tunic. When she caught sight of Ahsoka in the doorway, her shoulders dipped with relief.

“Ahsoka, thank goodness! Would you _please_ tell your stubborn bantha brains grandmaster that he needs to sit still and let me administer this shot before he catches some disgusting disease and dies of idiocy?!” But Master Obi-wan was not to be persuaded so easily. He sent Master Bant a heated glare, arms crossed.

“Which I was properly inoculated against when I was twenty-three Bant. There’s absolutely no…”

“It has to be re-administered every few years, you fool. Now hold still. You’re worse than the younglings!”

“I am wiser than they are, you mean,” Obi-wan corrected.

“You’re a nuisance! I’m trying to save your life!”

“I’m trying to get out of your ward and let you go back to healing _actual_ sick people!” This was an old debate. Ahsoka had seen it play out before many times between Master Kenobi and the Healers. It seemed the only time the Jedi Master could actually be called juvenile was when he needed to take his medicine.

She called the syringe in Bant’s hand to her own grip with the Force. “A compromise,” she suggested when both her elders stopped to glare at her. “I’ll tell you how my conversation with Master Skywalker went if you let Bant inoculate you,” she offered. Obi-wan cocked his head, brows furrowed.

“What conversation?” Ahsoka was hard pressed not to roll her eyes. She respected and admired Master Obi-wan, but sometimes he was just as – if not more – difficult to handle than Anakin. No wonder the two of them together was a recipe for complete disaster.

“The one about our mission to _Zyggeria_ ,” she elaborated.

“Bribing one’s elders is _certainly_ not The Jedi Way, young one,” he scolded.

Bant barked a laugh. “You’ve met her teacher, yes? Anakin Skywalker? Flamboyant rogue of the entire Order?”

“Ah yes,” Obi-wan agreed dryly. His eyes swept over her a moment. When he caught the serious tenor of her thoughts, he capitulated. “You strike a hard bargain, young Jedi. Very well. Bant, skewer me at will,” Bant sent Ahsoka a look full of gratitude.

“I will inform the Council of your superior diplomacy skills, Padawan,” she promised as Obi-wan sat upon the examining table, arm outstretched, and expression warped into one of distaste. He looked like a grumpy ritual sacrifice. Ahsoka smiled and handed Bant the syringe, which Bant filled and executed with palpable relief.

“There, you big baby,” she growled, slapping a bandage unto the bleeding spot in his elbow. Obi-wan rubbed at it sorely, as if he hadn’t survived torture, severe injury and near death without so much as a grimace.

“I _suppose_ I thank you,” he pretended to grumble. Bant rolled her eyes, patted Ahsoka on the shoulder and stormed out.

“I hope you get eaten by a Gundark. One who chews slowly!” She called over one shoulder.

“May the Force be with you too Bant!” He called after her retreating figure. Ahsoka shook her head and walked into the room, letting the privacy curtain fall closed behind her.

“I don’t understand the friendship you two have, Master,” she admitted. Obi-wan’s eyes twinkled.

“Not to worry, young one. Master Eearin and I have known each other since we were younglings learning to lift rocks in the creche. Our bickering is no more than that – bickering. I allow myself to be the momentary source of Bant’s ire, for the sake of compassion, of course.”

Ahsoka snorted. “Of course.”

“Now,” Obi-wan continued. When he looked at her, his eyes twinkled with knowing. “Should I ask how it went? I remember feeling a… Disturbance in the Force.”

“Um… As well as you could expect,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “At least, I got him to talk about his mother a little bit.” Obi-wan’s eyebrows shot up. He rubbed his beard contemplatively, humming.

“Very impressive. Your diplomacy skills _are_ progressing,” Ahsoka didn’t feel as if she had taken part in any diplomacy, but far be it for her to question her master’s master.

“I’ve been thinking since then, and, well I have an idea, but I need your help to execute it,” Obi-wan waved a hand, indicating that she continue. “His lifeday is coming up, you know. He never wants to do anything, but…”

“But you want to make the occasion _special_ this year, I presume?”

“Yes,” Ahsoka breathed. “I want… I want to start a rehabilitation camp, for escaped or freed slaves. Somewhere they can go and start to rebuild their lives.”

“Ambitious.”

“Yes. I want to name it after his mother. Shmi.”

Now understanding dawned on Obi-wan’s expression. His smile was gentle, proud. “I’d be honored to help with such a project. What do you need me to do?”

“Well, we’re going to need a place, skilled physicians and counselors and staff and…And money.”

“Indeed.”

Sometimes, she really hated Master Kenobi. He was staring at her with palpable amusement now, one side of his mouth tipped into a half-smirk. She sighed and crossed her arms impatiently. “Somehow I don’t see that happening in two weeks.”

“Never doubt the power of the Force, Ahsoka,” he counseled. “Or your own strength of will. How about this? I will let _you_ research and try to secure a place to begin this rehabilitation camp. Let me worry about the staff, and I have an idea for who we could ask about securing funding…”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked, surprised. She knew that Master Kenobi had contacts, but not the _richer than rich_ kind of contacts. “Who?”

He winked. “Let me worry about it.”

* * *

Obi-wan had half-feared that he would stumble across Padme at a bad time. The Force knew that the woman was kept busy enough during these difficult times, but, as he had counted on, she was more than willing to spare him a moment to indulge his request.

Especially once he mentioned Anakin’s name.

“It’s going to be near impossible, Obi-wan,” the senator worried, rifling through the drawers next to her desk. She was in her full senate regalia, hair pinned into an ornate tower above her head. Her eyes, large, empathetic, intelligent, narrowed as she searched for important documents. Behind her, the Courascanti sun was beginning to set, casting a dull brownish glow on the polluted city.

“Securing funding for a project like the one you’re suggesting would normally take years. Right now, the senate is going through our fiscal expenditures and trying to balance the wartime costs, but you know all this,” she glanced up, pointedly. “So what, exactly, is your plan? I know you wouldn’t have come to me without one.” There was a reason he enjoyed doing business with Padme Amidala. Besides being an impeccably principled woman, she was also logical and straight-forward to a fault.

Obi-wan leaned forward in the seat across from her, steepling his fingers together. “Indeed. My idea wasn’t necessarily to petition the Senate for funds, Padme,” he agreed. “The favor I seek from you is more… personal in manner,” he said.

She came across her papers and shuffled them, glancing up. “Oh?”

“You’re aware that Senators Arai, Narra, Kuan-Tin and Ta-Doa are seeking reelection on their home planets to the galactic senate?”

“I wouldn’t be very good at my job otherwise,” Padme agreed. She put the papers down with a sigh and sat back in her seat to regard him. “I also know that _you_ know that I stand opposed to those four senators on nearly every issue put on the table,” oh, that was going to the hard part about this entire endeavor. Obi-wan nodded.

“Imagine the bipartisan gesture it would be to then throw a fundraiser which they could attend to gain more support among their constituents. We could even host it on neutral ground, so as to… Expand our horizons,” Obi-wan suggested. “Say, Mandalore?”

Padme’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “You already asked The Duchess?”

Of course he had. Satine, with the characteristic optimism of a pacifist, had been all too delighted to pledge her assistance. “She is only awaiting your opinion on the matter.”

“So let me get this straight. You want _me_ to host a fundraiser, in which I invite my political rivals, potential Separatist leaders and wealthy philanthropists to mingle in one room and leverage for more power and support on their respective planets? Most of whom, I might remind you, have no great love for the Order to which you’ve sworn your life.”

Obi-wan shrugged. “You may also invite peers of which are _not_ your political rivals or sworn enemies of the Republic and Jedi Order, if you’d like.”

Padme narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize that if _I’m_ going to deal with them for an extended period of time, you’ll have to agree to accompany me?” He sighed. He had been afraid she might say that. _The Force is never a nursemaid indeed,_ he inwardly groaned.

Outside, he merely folded his hands into opposite sleeves. “That seems fair.”

“If we succeed in this, we could also be helping those people make our lives harder later.”

“I assume so.”

“You’re willing to do that?”

Another shrug. “Ahsoka is determined. Besides, it’s for Anakin’s life-day.”

Padme let out a small laugh and huffed. She slumped into her chair, gazed at him with a helpless sort of fondness. “Master Kenobi, why can’t you just get him a new ship? He’ll adore that too,” Obi-wan had, actually, been intending to do just that before Ahsoka had brought her idea to him.

“He would,” Obi-wan chuckled. “But, Padme, you and Anakin are close friends…”

The Force laughed in his ear. He ignored the irony of his own lie.

“…You know his origin. You must also know how much it still haunts him every day. The memories of his time as a slave, and the fate his mother must have endured while he was being trained. Not to mention her death and yes, I know that he told you about that,” he continued when she opened her mouth. Her jaw clicked shut. She smiled tiredly.

“I do know,” she whispered. “You think this will help?”

“I do.” Padme studied him for a long span of moments. Then, she pressed a button on her desk. The intercom beeped to life.

“Threepio!” She called.

“Oh, yes Mistress Padme?” Came the droid’s familiar tones over the speaker.

“Can you contact Bail, Mon Mothma, Jar-Jar, Duchess Satine and Chu-Chi? We have a fundraiser to begin planning,” Obi-wan bowed his thanks.

“Your wish is my command, Mi’lady,” Threepio replied. Padme nodded and turned back to him with a grin that lit up the entire room. She arched a brow.

“Well, Master Jedi, it’s begun now. My only question is, how do you intend to build and staff this entire endeavor?” She asked. Obi-wan stood.

“Ahsoka is handling the details of construction. I’ll find the construction workers and staff.”

Padme shook her head. “I won’t ask. May the Force be with you.”


	3. Building blocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka starts asking for the wisdom and contacts of her elders. Some of them have slightly dubious intentions for agreeing to help.

Hiding things from Anakin was easy.

When at The Temple, she and him lived near separate lives. Ahsoka had her own friends, duties and responsibilities, and Anakin spent so little time at The Temple that it was uncanny for a Jedi Knight. They trained or caused mischief together. Maybe it was a sign of a bad teaching relationship, but Ahsoka liked the freedom her master’s natural independence afforded her. She knew some Padawan’s that almost never created a personality outside of their masters, so attached were they at the hip.

They, on the other hand, also didn’t have clingy masters.

And Anakin hadn’t yet stopped being _clingy._

“Where are you going?” Ahsoka nearly jumped out of her skin as she staggered from the warm steam of the fresher into the common area. It, like Anakin’s private quarters, was strewn with various droid parts, tools and half-eaten food. Ahsoka didn’t mind the mess so much. Half of it was probably hers anyway and it was not as if she spent a lot of time in their quarters. Neither did Anakin, usually. Which was why seeing him standing in the kitchen with a small screwdriver in hand was so discomfiting.

Also, she had _an appointment_ to keep. “Master?!” She gasped, tugging the towel shawl closer to her body. Anakin wasn’t looking at her though. His eyes were on the small cleaning droid in front of him. Its entire back was open, a mass of wires and metal falling out like intestines. “What are you doing here?”

He arched a brow. “I live here.”

“Not usually,” Ahsoka pointed out. “And definitely not in the mornings. You hate mornings. And waking up.”

“Point,” Anakin straightened and nodded down to the robot on the counter. “MC-84 needed a new hydro-spanner.” Yep, definitely clingy. Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at him, letting the dubiousness of her Force signature scream loud and clear.

“I thought you gave up on that project, like, four months ago?”

“I did not _give up,”_ Anakin sniffed. “I went on hiatus,” he smiled and waved the screwdriver in his hand knowingly. “Wanna help me out with it?”

“Right _now?”_

“What else do you have to do today?” Anakin demanded. Ahsoka couldn’t very well tell him that without spilling the secret of her own project. Still, a half-truth should suffice.

“I’m going to The Archives with Master Sinube,” that wasn’t a lie at least.

Anakin grunted. “I didn’t know you two kept in touch.”

That was probably for the best. Anakin was not the only Master that she sought out to cause trouble. Then again, Master Yoda didn’t count. He didn’t need convincing to cause mischief, he just sort of _was_ trouble? It was strange; but comforting. “We do.”

“What are you two doing in The Archives?”

“He’s helping me with my….” Damnit, what did she need help with lately? “He’s helping me learn Jaboo black-miraq.”

Anakin crossed his arms, and now _his_ dubiousness stained the Force. As far as excuses went, Ahsoka had to admit that this probably had not been her finest work. “He’s helping you learn _a pirate’s game of cards_?” Anakin asked. Ahsoka tipped her chin daringly.

“Hondo talked about it!”

“No, I remember,” he assured her dryly. “Just, why are _you_ learning it?”

“Master Kenobi knows how to play.”

This didn’t seem to surprise her master. Which Ahsoka had been depending on. Whether or not Master Kenobi could actually play was beyond the point. “Of course he does.”

“I want to learn too.”

“Of course you do. What? You going to challenge him to a game or something? No, don’t answer that. I know you are,” Anakin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because only _my_ apprentice would be foolish enough to confront Obi-wan with a pirate’s card game. Fine. Whatever,” he waved a dismissive hand, and turned back to his broken robot. “Go learn your illegal smuggling game. And why don’t you petition the Council to be _Obi-wan’s_ Padawan while you’re at it?” he grumbled.

Ahsoka grinned, a familiar memory tickling the edges of her conscious.

“Ah, master, you’d miss me…” She teased.

“Not since me and Obi-wan get sent everywhere together anyway.”

“Besides,” she continued, to smooth over Anakin’s wounded feelings. “I’d never make it as Obi-wan’s Padawan, remember?”

His mouth flickered into a reminiscing smile. It was a good memory between them, pure. “But you might make it as mine,” he murmured. Ahsoka clapped him on the shoulder as she passed by him.

“Exactly. See you later master!” She called over her shoulder.

“You’d better not lose to Obi-wan, Snips! My reputation is on the line here!” He replied, but Ahsoka was already gone.

* * *

“Is it even possible, master?” Ahsoka asked her old friend later. Master Sinube’s long neck craned over her shoulder at the screen. He made a slight clicking noise, sort of like two nuts being knocked together. She had learned that this was a sign of him thinking. 

“This meteoroid exactly?” He asked. He extended a trembling claw, tapped lightly at the screen. Ahsoka nodded.

“Yes, master.”

His chuckle was hollow, but without judgement. “You don’t do anything by halves, do you Padawan?” He asked. Ahsoka squirmed in her seat. It seemed that she was getting a reputation.

“I try not too, Master Sinbue. But _will it work_?”

“Perhaps,” he wheezed, sinking back into the hover chair behind him. He rubbed at his beaked chin with two fingers, squinting. “As you know, structures have been built on meteoroids before, but usually below the surface and a stationary one. This one,” he tapped at the screen. “The _Hurling Spit,_ as the smugglers call it, has not stopped zinging through the galaxy in a few decades.”

“Which is why its perfect, master!” She agreed. “This way, the meteorite keeps moving throughout the galaxy. It can pick up escaped slaves anywhere; and stay out of the radar of slave hunters. Kinda hard to track a meteorite that just keeps moving, don’t you think?”

A wet chuckle. “I _do_ think so, and your theories there are sound. The problem remains, however, how you intend to build a structure on a _moving_ object. Especially something moving this fast. Also, have you given thought to what happens if the meteorite were to strike, say, a deserted planet, killing everyone inside?”

“There would need to be some kind of steering mechanism,” Ahsoka admitted.

“I must ask, Padawan,” Master Sinube huffed, turning to face her with large inquisitive eyes. “What exactly is your plan here? To build a rehabilitation center with no money or resources?” He wondered. Ahsoka gave a half shrug.

“Not exactly. I do have some help, but I will need to contract builders. Any ideas?”

Master Sinube shook his head. “None that will accept this challenge in so short of a notice. Yet, if you do manage this, by some miracle of the Force, know that the physics are sound. You can build a structure on The Hurling Spit. If you can get it to stay still long enough.”

Ahsoka rubbed her chin. “Do you think a tractor beam would work?”

He smiled, slowly. “It’s plausible.”

Ahsoka leaned back in her seat. “What about the Republic outposts on remote planets? Don’t we have clones build those?”

“Indeed we do,” both Ahsoka and Master Sinube swiveled in unison. Master Plot stood just behind them; arms crossed. His eyes, hidden behind the thick oxygen-filtering mask, seemed to see right past her skin to luminous being. Whatever he saw made him hum speculatively. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” he interjected politely. He leaned forward, placing a steady hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder to peer at the screen.

“We do have clones build our remote republic outposts. They follow the direction of specific engineers, of course, usually conscripted from the Courascanti School of Engineering and Science.” Ahsoka and Master Sinube exchanged a long look.

“Students design our outposts?” Ahsoka asked.

Master Plo made a sound of reluctant agreement. “It was the Chancellor’s idea, I believe. Another way of garnering support for the war. However, if this structure is going to be used for what I think you’re intending, it must not look as if it was built or affiliated with the Republic in any way,” he said.

“Why not?” Ahsoka demanded.

“The Hutts are still our sworn allies in the war. Imagine their ire if they discovered we’ve created an outpost to which their own slaves could effectively escape,” Master Plo reminded her. Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“Politics again?” She groaned.

“I’m afraid so,” Master Plo did not sound as if he liked it any more than she did. “However…” She perked up in her seat.

“What, master?”

“I know someone. Bereus Nogeru. The Head engineer at the Galactic School for Technology and Innovation. The University is in neutral space, accepts students from Republic and Separatist home worlds. She is a brilliant engineer, and as far as I know, is looking for an added source of income for the school…”

“Can we get in contact with her?” Ahsoka asked immediately.

“Not I,” Master Plo demurred. “I only know her by reputation. For that, you need to contact Master Windu. He and Bereus are old friends, so I hear,” Ahsoka couldn’t pale like humans could. Yet she had seen both Master Obi-wan and Anakin do it, and she knew that if it were possible, she would have just paled and passed out. And died. Master Windu, legendary disciplinarian and adherer to the no-attachments, no lifeday presents, no fun _ever_ in the history of the Order? _Him?_

Not to mention the man that she and Anakin had repeatedly disobeyed so that they could, er, follow the Will of the Force?

Ahsoka gulped. Master Sinube chuckled. “I think you’ll find Master Windu a lot less strict in matters such as these, padawan,” he assuaged her. Ahsoka exhaled a slow breath, tried to still her emotions in the Force.

“Right,” she breathed. She looked up at Master Plo. “Will you go with me?”

Her oldest friend chuckled and patted her shoulder. “I believe this is a project better finished on your own,” he informed her. Ahsoka huffed. Well, he was a great help. Yeah. Completely.

“I don’t want word getting out that I’m doing this,” she tried to protest one last time.

“Too late,” Master Plo snorted. “Half the Temple has noticed you and Master Kenobi stalking about plotting something. Rest assured,” he continued, no doubt noticing the stark horror on Ahsoka’s expression. “Your Master has no clue. So long as you want, it will remain like that,” he said.

Ahsoka relaxed. “Thanks, Master Plo. I’ll go talk to Master Windu, but, uh, can I have your help with something else?” His silence was answer enough. “If half the Temple has noticed me and Master Kenobi acting weird, Anakin won’t be far behind. Could you provide a smoke screen for us?” She asked.

Master Plo’s spike of utter exhilaration in The Force made her smile. Yet he was calm as ever when he gave her a small bow. “Consider it done, little ‘Soka,” he intoned.

“May The Force Be With You,” Master Sinube added.

* * *

Ahsoka might have found him at a bad time.

In her defense, these days it did not appear as if Master Windu ever had _good_ times anymore. He was preparing to depart for a mission when she finally caught wind of his location; and had all but burst into his private quarters without knocking.

So maybe she was the reason he was having a bad day, because she had also interrupted his meditation. Her mistake. “How is it,” Master Windu drawled when she had finished outlining the bare basics of what she was planning. “That Obi-wan has managed to continue a legacy of Qui-gon-like defiance and non-adherence to our basic tenants when he’s such a dedicated follower to them?” He asked.

Ahsoka was not sure if that was a rhetorical question or not. She stayed silent just in case. Master Windu, legs crossed in firm meditation posture below him, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So let me get this right,” he continued, the dimness of his chambers only outlining the strength of his posture. Master Windu was partially so intimidating because of his natural grace and partially because he always seemed exasperated with everyone. “For Your Master’s Life-day anniversary, you intend to build a camp to rehabilitate escaped slaves on a moving asteroid and name it after his mother?”

“Well, yes. That’s kind of it,” she admitted.

Master Windu speared her with a dour look. “I only have twenty minutes before I must depart for the frontlines, Padawan. Define, _kind of,”_ he growled. Ahsoka tried not to fidget in her place just across from him. She inhaled a steeling breath (you’ve faced down hoardes of droids, Ahsoka, come on. This is nothing) and returned Master Windu’s firm gaze.

“The mission on Zyggeria gave me new perspective, master. I wasn’t even a slave for a week, and I saw the resilience, the degradation, the pure… Torment it inflicts on its victims. I felt their pain, and it was close to me. Knowing that my master came from such origins, it is…”

“Problematic.”

 _“Humbling,”_ she corrected coldly. “His is a perseverance and discipline I am honored to learn from. I want to commemorate that. To honor him by honoring where he came from, yes, but I also want to do _something_ about slavery. I don’t feel right just… Freeing the villagers from Zyggeria. I want to do more, for slaves across the galaxy, but I know that ours is a nomadic calling,” she continued, when he opened his mouth to interject. “I can’t stay somewhere and make a change, but I can maybe start building a place for others to do so in my stead.”

Master Windu rubbed his chin, narrowing his eyes at her for a long second. Ahsoka met his gaze head on. When that second was over, he relaxed a bit. And to her surprise, he grinned.

His teeth shone stark white in the dim room. The Force blared with satisfaction. Ahsoka blinked, taken aback. “Your Master has cultivated your natural sense of justice and compassion, I see,” Master Windu observed. “I _told_ Obi-wan he’d make a fine teacher.”

“I… Um…”

“Relax, Padawan,” Master Windu ordered. “Though I have some reservations about when and how you’re going to accomplish this feat, I nonetheless support your intentions. Master Skywalker and I have our… Differences, as you know.”

Ahsoka thought he was being a little too generous about his description of the tension between Anakin and himself, but whatever. The Council didn’t need to know _everything,_ after all. “Yes Master,” she agreed.

“Yet, I agree with you. His _is_ a spirit to be commended, even if he drives the Council mad, and the war has forced the Jedi away from such philanthropic pursuits. Once, projects such as these were undertaken by Padawans your age all the time. I’m glad to see at least _one_ person of your generation is more interested in saving lives than destroying droids,” Ahsoka didn’t point out that normally her main focus was scrapping droids and for good reason. As Master Kenobi always said, _the truths we cling too are_ _greatly influenced by our point of view_. Master Windu stood with the fluidness of a cresting wave. Ahsoka scrambled after him, undignified.

“Master Plo was correct. Bereus and I are old friends. I have her personal comm relay. Here, I’ll transfer it to you,” he tapped a code unto his commlink. Ahsoka’s beeped on her wrist. Her heart thundered with excitement. She was getting somewhere.

 _I could actually do this_ , she marveled. _I really could._ _Or, WE really could._

She bowed at the waist, deeply. “Thank you, Master Windu,” she said, hoping that he could feel her sincerity in the Force.

To her surprise, he returned the gesture. “Comm me when construction begins. I’d like to follow your progress,” he requested.

“Of course. And… I know you’re about to leave for a mission, but Master Plo is distracting Anakin for me. I don’t suppose you’d like to…?” She peeked out from under her eyelashes. Windu’s spark of delight matched Master Plo’s exactly. His grin inexplicably grew, and Ahsoka almost felt bad for Anakin. She had a feeling that this was a scheme of revenge.

Oh well. She couldn’t say Anakin didn’t deserve it a little.

“Oh yes,” Windu assured her. “I’d like too. _Very Much_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!


	4. The Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme, Obi-wan and Ahsoka have a team huddle.

Padme hated politics.

Truly. She despised everything about it. The slow machinations, the budget reports, the pure idiocy of believing a few people could decide for millions. She’d hated it ever since descending from the throne with a new sense of how the universe worked.

Easiest way to describe it? The Universe didn’t work.

It lived. Because it lived, it did not follow the guidelines, rules or even patterns of their small, individual minds. It was bigger than them, and they were mere mortals trying to domesticate what they could not even begin to understand.

That being said, she was also very good at politics.

How else would she have pulled this off? “It’s in a week, Ahsoka,” she informed the younger woman. Ahsoka handed her a glass of water. Padme took it with a smile of thanks, tipping her head back against the cushions of her couch. She popped a pain reliever into her mouth, washed it down with the cool water.

Her head was throbbing.

“How many in attendance?’ Ahsoka wondered, pitching her voice low in a move of pure mercy and compassion.

“Over three hundred,” Padme replied. Her temple throbbed anew at the number. Padme gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes closed. “Duchess Satine has already begun preparations in the National Art Gallery of Mandalore. Everyone of import will be there, including Chancellor Palpatine’s personal representative. Could you hand me that cool rag please?” A thin, damp rag was pressed into her hand. Padme put it over her eyes; and sighed when the coolness relieved some of the heat pounding behind her eyelids.

“That’s impressive,” Ahsoka said. “Thank you so much, Padme.”

“I should be thanking you,” Padme argued softly. “Anakin is going to _love_ this, Ahsoka. You have no idea how much,” she nudged her with an elbow playfully. “You might never have to run saber drills again.” She teased.

Ahsoka huffed a laugh. “Hopefully. The wildest part about all this is how much help I’ve gotten from members of the Council,” she said.

“Do you know how Masters Plo and Windu distracted Anakin today?” Padme asked curiously.

“No idea,” Ahsoka replied. She laid a hand on Padme’s arm, perfectly still, and suddenly chuckled. “Master Kenobi is here,” she announced, just as Threepio blustered into the room. Padme could hear him complaining the entire way.

“Mistress Padme, a Jedi is…”

“Let him in, Threepio. For Goodness sakes. You know who Obi-wan is,” Padme reminded him, barely able to keep the snap out of her voice. Threepio sounded distinctly offended.

“I do, Mi’lady, but these days so many Jedi come by at odd hours…”

“Who else…?” Ahsoka began. Padme quickly waved a dismissive hand.

“You think you’re the only one the Council comes to scold for reckless behavior? It’s a good thing you didn’t mention my name to Master Windu. He would have forbidden the project just to get back at me, I think.”

Ahsoka’s bark of laughter was nothing if not understanding. “Ah, there you are master. The Team is all here,” she said. Padme didn’t hear Obi-wan enter because, well, _him_ , but the couch on her left slowly dipped beneath his weight.

“I see you two have had a day much like mine,” The Jedi Master said. Padme heard the undercurrent of weariness in his voice. She reached out, patting the couch, until her hand landed on his knee. She squeezed it.

“Help yourself to some tea, Obi-wan. You know where it is. How was your day?”

“Busy. Padme, would you like me to dim that headache you have there?”

She shook her head, and promptly regretted it when it made her head feel even worse. “No thank you. I have alcohol for that. You’re welcome to that too, if you’d like.” Anakin had tried to ease her pain using The Force before. It almost always felt like someone was pouring water into her ears.

“No thank you,” Obi-wan chuckled. “Ahsoka, should I ask why half the Jedi Council challenged Anakin to spar today, _including_ Master Yoda?”

“He sparred half the Jedi Council?” Ahsoka squawked. Padme felt her own throat close in sympathy. Anakin would sleep well tonight.

“Well, no,” Obi-wan admitted. “Apparently, Master Plo asked for his assistance in training the younglings to hit fast-moving objects,” Padme scowled. That didn’t sound like it was too strenuous. Ahsoka’s next words, delivered in perfect sarcastic drawl, made her bite the inside of her lip to hold back her laughter.

“You mean dodgeball.”

“Oh, poor Ani,” Padme snickered.

“Anakin just spent the last forty-five minutes complaining to me about the various bruises he has because of it,” Obi-wan informed them, sounding as amused as Padme felt.

Ahsoka’s laugh was relieved. “He had a blast,” she predicted.

“I assume so,” Obi-wan agreed warmly. “The Masters seemed pleased as well.”

“I asked Master Plo to distract him for us until this project is done,” Ahsoka explained.

“He’s the one who obtained help from the others, presumably, and they fell to the task with perfect Jedi dedication and glee,” Obi-wan assured her. “I’ll have to rescue him from Master Gallia. She has a bar to settle with him, I believe.”

“Who doesn’t?” Ahsoka snorted.

“So you’ve conscripted the Jedi temple into distraction. What about the construction?” Padme asked. They listened as Ahsoka relayed what she had learned from research and various Jedi.

“I finally contacted Bereus. She thinks it’s a great idea, she’s even excited to begin sketching ideas for how we can build on a moving asteroid. Her baseline for payment, though, is, uh, high. Really high. And she and her students are only the designers. We still need actual construction workers. I thought about the clones, but only some of them are trained in construction, and we need _them_ on the frontlines…”

“Not to worry,” Obi-wan interjected. “I’ve been working on that part. I spent the day making arrangements with an old friend. Master Ubuquey.”

One of them was trying to touch her mind with the Force. Padme knew because there was pressure behind her temples, a very familiar touch. She could hardly explain how she knew the touch of the Force without giving away her most precious secret, however. “I’ve never heard of him before.” Ahsoka said.

Obi-wan hummed disapprovingly. He probably glared too. That hum sounded like an imminent lecture. “He oversees the Agri-corps on Bandomeer. The Agri-corps are trained in landscaping and agriculture, and believe me, we’ll need their help. He’s agreed to send us a hundred volunteers to help with construction. They’re separate enough from the Order that it shouldn’t upset the Hutts unduly; but trained in using the Force to build and beautify.”

“That’s _brilliant_ , master!”

Padme nodded agreement. The rag slipped from her eyes, and she opened them gingerly. “A whole lot of Force-trained builders. Very nice,” she agreed when the light didn’t immediately cause her stabbing agony.

“There’s more,” of course there was. “For a facility this big, we will need more builders, more landscapers, more people not affiliated with the Republic.”

“So, you went too…?” Ahsoka pressed.

Obi-wan’s mouth twitched in barely disguised glee. “Serreno.”

The headache was back. Padme sat up and stared. _He didn’t_. “You did _what?”_

Ahsoka was studying her master’s master as if she suspected he had been duped. “Master,” she said slowly. “That’s Dooku’s home world. In Separatist space.”

Obi-wan leaned back gracefully, chuckling. “It is. We have quite a number of spies there. They’ve agreed that if we supply the funds, they will contract an independent company from Serreno to help us build.” Oh.

Padme’s heart blossomed with vicious, vengeful _delight._ If Ahsoka’s predatory grin was anything to go by, she felt the same. “Dooku won’t like that.”

“I thought Anakin would appreciate that fact all the more.” He would. Padme could already imagine the un-Jedi like glee that Anakin would take from knowing his slave-rehabilitation center had been built out of Dooku’s home planet. Right under his nose. Especially if the Hutts found out and blamed Dooku for its creation.

Padme had to admit she liked the plan even more know. She laced her fingers together and folded them beneath her chin. “Well, not to show you up Obi-wan, but I have been in contact with Bail. The medical facility on Alderran is one of the most advanced in the Republic, you know? Well, when I told him about our little project, he suggested that an alliance between the center and the interning doctors and nurses at the academy.”

“Are you suggesting that the center will sport its own small army of willing and eager physicians?” Obi-wan asked, sounding impressed. 

“Exactly. Including therapists and surgeons skilled in trauma work.”

“Well,” Ahsoka decided, the grin splitting her cheeks slightly feral. “They can join the small army of counselors, lawyers, and specially trained anti-slave activists that Master Yoda is connecting me with as we speak. They can help with the legal and social aspect of freedom.”

After a thousand years of life, Padme had hoped that Master Yoda would have some noteworthy contacts. She was surprised he did not personally know every sentient in the galaxy. Everyone seemed to know of him. “It’s almost like we’re bringing Republicans and Separatists together,” she speculated. “First with the fundraiser, and now this…”

“Albeit by some forms of trickery, but yes,” Obi-wan said with a shrug.

“Master Anakin is going to have his mind blown,” Ahsoka giggled.

Obi-wan’s warm smile illuminated his haggard face. He placed a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. “Thanks to your ingenuity, Ahsoka,” he reminded her. Ahsoka’s montrals bled purple with embarrassed pride. Padme had to get in on this.

She reached forward and squeezed her knee. “He’s going to be so _proud.”_

Ahsoka gulped audibly, eyes downcast. She seemed to think something over, anxiously. Before Padme could inquire, the Padawan surged to her feet, a fire of determination kindled in her eyes. “Well, then let’s get it done.”


	5. The Mentor of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-wan discuss being Masters to headstrong and easily offended Padawans, their own convoluted past, and the potential for Obi-wan to train a new apprentice.

“Obi-wan!”

Obi-wan broke off from his conversation with Master Shaak-Ti, both turning. Anakin, lo and behold, was coming down the hall after them, his dark robes swirling at his ankles like storm winds. Obi-wan quickly went over the past two weeks to make sure he had not done or said anything untoward to the boy. He could think of nothing. Yet Anakin’s expression implied that whatever he had done, he was _in trouble_ for it.

How things had changed.

Master Shaak-Ti, blast her, chuckled and swept a gentle hand over his arm. “I see another of your duties calls,” she observed, with a significant rise of her white eyebrows. Obi-wan barely restrained the roll of his eyes. He gestured to Anakin instead.

“ _This_ is why I can’t take another Padawan,” he informed her, monotone. Anakin bowed his head in greeting as he approached, arms crossed.

“Master Shaak-Ti.”

She returned the gesture, already inching away. “Master Skywalker. I am glad to see that you are well after your recent mission.” Anakin’s expression, if possible, darkened. Shaak-Ti wisely made her retreat then, still chuckling beneath her breath. Obi-wan watched her go, longingly, before turning back to his friend.

“Hello Anakin.”

As usually, his former apprentice was as blunt as he was tactless. “Where is my apprentice?” He demanded. Of all the things Obi-wan had anticipated this was not one of them. He scowled.

“How should I know?” He asked. “She’s yours.” Contrary to popular belief, he and Anakin did not _co-parent_ Ahsoka. Obi-wan, for the most part, left her instruction in the Jedi Arts to Anakin. Obi-wan took the role of occasional sounding board, confidante to both parties and mentor. Now Anakin looked confused.

“I thought she had challenged you to some pirate game,” he said.

What kind of excuses was Ahsoka _concocting?_ A pirate’s game?

“Oh,” Obi-wan realized aloud. “Do you mean Jaboo black-miraq?”

Anakin rolled his eyes as if Obi-wan was being needlessly irritating. “Well, yeah. How many pirate games do you know? Wait, don’t answer,” he said before Obi-wan could remind him of just how many times he had been captured by pirates. “She went to Master Sinube to learn it so she could challenge you.” Well, that actually sounded a bit… Exciting. Obi-wan would have to ask Ahsoka whether she had ever actually intended to play with him.

“Well, she hasn’t challenged me yet, and now you’ve gone and ruined the surprise,” Obi-wan scolded Anakin. Anakin deflated.

“Oh,” he murmured. Obi-wan arched a brow and Anakin sighed. “I think she’s mad at me.”

That wasn’t an unlikely scenario. Improbable, considering that she was dutifully preparing a nearly impossible surprise for Anakin, but Obi-wan could play along. He folded his hands into opposite sleeves. “What did you do?”

“How do you know it isn’t unfounded anger?”

“I’ve known you too long,” he drawled. “What did you do?”

Anakin’s bottom lip poked out in a comical scene for about fifteen seconds before he recomposed himself. His eyes slid away, the Force murky with… Vestiges of an old fear, an old love, an old life that Anakin had never truly released. “She asked about my mother. By the way, I wonder where she got that little tidbit from…”

Oops. Dangerous topic. “Focus, Padawan. Mind in the present moment.”

 _“Not_ your Padawan anymore,” Anakin snapped. Obi-wan pressed his lips together, biting back a reply. Anakin ran the prosthetic hand down his face. “Whatever. She asked about my mother and I… I shut down pretty quickly. She was just being curious, or trying to help, and well… Anyway. She’s been avoiding me ever since, so I think she’s angry with me.”

The subject of Shmi Skywalker had always been a sensitive one. Even Obi-wan tried to stray away from mentioning the past too often. Ahsoka was certainly bold. Obi-wan hummed and glanced to the side as another pair of Jedi started towards them, faces hidden in veiled cloaks. He jerked his head to the left.

“Walk with me,” he invited. Anakin fell into step beside him with the ease of long habit. Obi-wan realized, with another pang of reluctant nostalgia, that the nine-year-old he had raised was taller than him now. Where had the time _gone?_ “Do you know how I knew when you were angry with me?” He asked after a moment of contemplation.

“Don’t speak in past tense. I still get angry with you,” Anakin snorted. Obi-wan gave him a dour look.

“Anakin.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll play along. I’d yell at you?”

“Good guess,” he drawled. “But no. Those times you weren’t truly angry. Frustrated, maybe, but not angry. The times I’d truly angered you, you would ask me about Master Qui-gon.” Anakin stared at him, eyes wide.

“I… Wait, I would?” He asked. Obi-wan’s mouth curled a bit at the edges, but the pang of amusement was as painful as it was fleeting.

“Yes. You do,” he agreed softly. They passed by the Room of a Thousand Mirrors, both eyes swiveling to a revered haunt for them both. Obi-wan hadn’t visited the room more than five times since the war began, whereas before he had sat in its solitude for hours at a time. He doubted Anakin had sat in its depths at all.

Maybe that was why self-reflection wasn’t his strong suit. “Oh. I… I never thought about that, but I guess I…” Anakin trailed off, brows furrowed. Suddenly, his presence spiked with alarm as he turned to face him. “I never meant to use his name to hurt you, Obi-wan…”

 _Never let it be said that my Padawan does not have a compassionate heart,_ Obi-wan waved away the worry before it fully manifested. “I _know_ that. You simply imagined what it would have been like if things had worked out as they should have. When you were truly angry, you thought of a better life. He was part of that, and so you wanted to know more about him.”

“I…”

“Relax, Anakin, it’s not as if I wouldn’t like to have him back as well,” _so much I want him back._ “Or that I too, don’t imagine who we’d both be if he had not fallen on Naboo. The reason I’m telling you this is because you must be more observant. When Ahsoka is angry, truly angry, what does she do? Where does she go?”

Anakin threw up his hands. “I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do. You two have a very strong bond. Use it.”

Anakin was silent for a long moment. His eyes slid away, thoughtfully. At length, he said: “She… She goes sparring. Whenever she gets angry, she also feels guilty. Like I’ve angered her because she’s unworthy in some way. So she tries to better herself,” if his tone was any indication, this insight was as surprising to him as it was to Obi-wan. He nodded.

“Exactly. Now, have you checked the sparring rooms?”

A defeated sigh. “Yeah. Nothing.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Well, then, rejoice. She isn’t angry at you. Now, I imagine she’s probably exasperated, or irritated or any number of other things,” he furrowed his brows as several exemplary memories came to mind. “We’ve spoken about this in length, actually. But she’s not angry at you _right now_.”

“What? Do you two complain about me together?”

“Yes. Does that help?”

Anakin’s exhale was more childish than it should have been, but some of the tension drained from his shoulders and back. He stopped in the hall and gave a grateful half-bow. “I’m still missing a Padawan, but yeah. Yes. Thanks, Obi-wan,” he smiled and returned the bow. It was good to know that all his struggles in raising Anakin had amounted to something.

“Not a problem. Is there anything else, since you’ve scared away my other means of conversation?” He asked. Anakin ran his prosthetic through his wayward curls. Obi-wan found himself wishing the boy would just shave his hair shorter again. Wouldn’t that be better for his general _cleanliness_ anyway?

“Uh… Do you know when we’re going to be deployed again? I’m getting kinda restless,” obviously, if he was scouring the Temple searching for a perfectly capable Padawan. Obi-wan forced his next statement to come out dry.

“I thought you were sparring with the Masters.”

He did not fool Anakin. The younger man crossed his arms. “I’m hiding from them, actually.”

“Ah. I have no clue.”

“Some Council member you are,” came the harrumph. “Since Ahsoka _probably_ isn’t angry at me, do you want to patrol downtown with me?”

Obi-wan’s gut panged with genuine regret. He so rarely had time to just spend with Anakin anymore, outside of their customary missions. “I wish I could, Anakin, but I have a charity event to attend tonight and then I’m being deployed to Chizzsk,” he said. Anakin’s eyebrows shot up.

“A charity event for _what_? With whom?”

“It’s an initiative begotten by Senator Amidala,” and a secret. “You would know about it if you ever bothered to watch the news.”

“You and Padme are hosting a charity event together?”

“More like she’s hosting and I’m representing the Order there,” _honestly, Anakin, could you at least try and disguise your jealousy?_ Obi-wan switched topics quickly, lest Anakin actually get it into his mind to research the gala. “What would be your reaction if I said I’m considering training another Padawan?” He chose correctly. Anakin’s scowl was dangerous.

“Don’t you dare. I’m not emotionally prepared to share you.”

Obi-wan rolled his eyes. “Until you get angry at me again, you mean. Then you’ll go back to wishing Qui-gon were here instead.”

Anakin shrugged. “I am eternally grateful for your teachings, Obi-wan,” The Force purred with sincerity.

“In that spirit, you’ll practice acceptance and compassion to my new…”

_“No.”_

Master Yoda, probably sensing Obi-wan’s consternation in the Force, chose that moment to appear at the end of the hall. Obi-wan thanked The Force for the old Master’s perceptiveness…. And occasional want of mischief. “Oh, is that Master Yoda over there? Master!” he called. “I found Anakin for you!”

Anakin startled like a rabbit, swiveled on a heel to escape just as Yoda noticed them. “Damn it, Obi-wan!” He hissed. Obi-wan snickered and clapped him on the shoulder. He had a gala to attend, after all. “I’ll get you back for this!”

“Have a nice day, my former Padawan!” Obi-wan replied over his shoulder. He ignored Anakin’s groan in the Force, well-acquainted with the younger man’s whining. Besides, this was good for him, Master Yoda and the Temple in general. A restless Anakin Skywalker was a dangerous one to have underfoot.

_“Obi-wan!”_


	6. The Blueprints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Construction on The Flying spit begins. The leaders of the operation perform their perspective duties. Help arrives in the unlikely form of a small green troll.

“Commander,” Rex protested feebly. “I don’t think that’s what the AT-AT Walkers were designed for…”

“It is most _definitely_ not what they were designed for, Captain,” Admiral Yularen agreed from his station on _The Resolute’s_ Bridge. Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“We have to work with what we have, Admiral,” she pointed out.

“That equipment cost the Republic millions of credits,” Admiral Yularen squawked indignantly.

“Master Skywalker and Ahsoka save the Republic millions of credits every week,” her new friend Jengi pointed out. He floated past her, carrying two large steel supports with The Force. Ahsoka, at first, had been shocked by how easily the Corps children carried out with their tasks with limited or underdeveloped Force ability.

Yet what they lacked in Lightsabers or fighting techniques they more than made up for with building prowess. Ahsoka glanced up at The Resolute, which through the combined powers of two Republic starships was holding The Hurling Spit captive between their tractor beams.

Construction was well underway. While the meteor trembled beneath them, the various builders obtained by Master Kenobi worked quickly while the cruisers huddled like chicks beneath their mother’s wings. A few stars streaked across the distant sky.

Ahsoka held the blueprints in front of her face, examined them in the light of her suit’s glass. “Exactly. Thank _you,_ Jengi. Admiral, I promise not to break the expensive equipment,” she swore as the AT-AT Walkers caravanned past. On their bulky heads were hundreds of pounds worth of equipment being carried to the other side of the meteor.

“Cody, come in,” she said, tapping the side of her helmet. “How’s it going in the core?” Cody, in charge of building the energy core beneath the surface of the meteor, hummed thoughtfully.

“We’ve hit a few snags, commander,” he reported. Ahsoka could have slapped her forehead if it weren’t protected by a thick pane of glass. Then again, what had she expected? This was the 501st and 212th they were talking about here. Of course something had gone wrong. Ahsoka was frankly shocked that nothing had exploded yet.

“What kind of snags?” Ahsoka demanded. Rex leaned over her shoulder, glanced at the blueprints and then hovered away to do his work. Ahsoka had never seen construction done with low gravity before, but Bereus and her students assured her that it would go faster this way.

“Er… The core model we have is too big. We need more room to put it inside with the steering mechanism.”

Ahsoka groaned. Excavating the meteorites rock-solid core had taken up more energy and time than she’d preferred already. “ _More_ digging?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.” She sighed. The heavy overhead lights of the cruiser bore down on them, steady and harsh suns. The ground beneath them rumbled as the meteor tried once more to break free of its chains.

“Fine. I’ll send Master Sinube down there,” she promised. The older Master had been more than happy to accept her invitation to help with building. _I never get to do anything fun anymore!_ He’d chortled when she had asked. _I barely get out of The Temple. I’d be honored._

Indeed, the elder Jedi’s cunning and wisdom had been an enormous help in delegating tasks and finding creative ways around some technicalities like physics and gravitational pull. “When I’m done up here, I’ll be down.”

“Yes commander.”

Ahsoka loved Cody. She continued down the list of people she needed to call. “Bereus, will we disturb your process by digging?” She asked, when the head architect answered her summons. Her face, tinted a deep blue and with a set of four eyes, squinted at Ahsoka from the holo-projector in her suit. Bereus was on the bridge with Admiral Yularen, overlooking the building and rearranging the blueprints to compensate for any last-minute issues.

“You will,” Bereus agreed. The two sets of eyes on the right swiveled to something outside the holo-gram. She nodded, made a deep noise in her throat. “We can’t lay down steady foundations if the ground is literally trembling beneath us,” she said. Another AT-AT walker stomped past, followed by a troupe of clones.

“Ok. Call your students back for a break. Once the clones are done digging, I’ll let you know when you can begin,” she said. Bereus shrugged.

“You’re the boss.”

 _I know. That’s the problem._ Ahsoka had led covert missions, ambushes and troops into battle, but somehow this felt… More difficult. Perhaps it was because fighting was an instinctual practice. Her body moved as it had a million times before. Of course she was thinking, but it was a different kind than this. Here, Ahsoka was forced to make decisions and spend money according to unsteady data.

Or perhaps it was because this was for _Anakin._

Master Sinube said she was doing well. Ahsoka wasn’t so sure. But everything had to be perfect. Anakin’s lifeday was only a few rotations away. “Jengi, you’re in charge up here. I’m heading down to the core,” she said, handing Jengi the blueprints. The Rodian took it with a nod and studied them thoughtfully.

“The hardest part will be creating that stabilizing shield,” he hummed. “We still don’t have the proper materials.”

“Master Kenobi left the charity gala to do just that,” Ahsoka assured him, even as her bad feeling grew and spread. “He’ll be back,” her comm-link dinged. She answered. “Master Ubuquey. How are things going there?” The head of the Agri-corps grunted.

“We’ve cleared the ground for a greenhouse,” he told her. “We’ll start planting now, Padawan Tano.” Ahsoka nodded. Master Ubuquey was even stricter than Master Windu. Yet one could not deny his results.

“Thank you, master.”

“The stabilizing field?” He continued. “We’ll need a steady atmosphere for the plants,” Ahsoka cringed. The protective field that was meant to encase the meteorite, thus ensuring breathable air and weather control systems, needed a very special iron ore to act as a conduit between the generators and its conductor.

That ore could only be found on Jabiim.

“We’re working on it,” she promised. Master Ubuquey hung up on her without a goodbye, which Jengi assured her was his normal way of conducting himself. Ahsoka inhaled a deep breath before tapping her next transmit code. A second later, Master Kenobi’s face appeared before her.

“Master Kenobi… Are you alright?” She asked immediately, ore be damned. His pallor was unnaturally gray. His eyes were glassy and intense, as if he were struggling to focus on an object far beyond his capacity. He cleared his throat.

“I am fine, young one,” Ahsoka somehow doubted that. “I found the ore. I’m sending all I could collect of it with R-4 to your destination. Then I need to get back to the gala.”

“Thank you master,” Ahsoka studied him another long moment. “You are getting some sleep tonight, aren’t you?” She asked. Doing two unpleasant things, especially of this caliber, would be a test for any sane individual, Jedi or not. She suddenly wished she were there. Master Obi-wan had taught her how to make the best calming teas in the galaxy.

He looked as if he needed one right now.

Obi-wan’s bitter smile was slight but resigned. They were Jedi. “May The Force Be With You,” he replied. His picture sapped away, and Ahsoka inhaled a deep breath, exhaled the tension in her shoulders. The Force gathered around her, a blanket of comfort.

Then her com beeped. Ahsoka tapped it once ad found Padme Amidala staring back at her. “Padme?” She asked. Padme did not waste time on pleasantries.

“When is Obi-wan coming back?” She asked, a perfectly round smile stuck on her face. Padme glanced to the side, called a greeting in a too high of voice, and then turned back. Her left eye twitched.

“He’s on his way now. He might… Be a minute,” Ahsoka answered. She squinted. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh fine, I just require a calm personality to save me from stabbing Senator Arai with my heel.”

“Um…”

“The Center?” Padme continued, eyes softening. Padme glanced over her shoulder at the tightly reigned chaos of the construction site. The ground grumbled beneath her as the excavation continued.

“It’s going to take a little longer,” she admitted. Padme’s brows furrowed worriedly.

“I’m fielding you money as it comes in during the raffle…” she said. Ahsoka nodded.

“I know. We’re almost to our goal. Thank you so much Padme.”

The senator straightened her ornate collar. “Well it is for Anakin. Will it be ready in time?” Ahsoka set her jaw.

“It has to be,” she determined. _I won’t fail him right now. Him or Shmi._

Padme dipped her head in confirmation. “We should get back to work then. May the Force Be With You,” Ahsoka was used to hearing that term, but right now it only heightened her anxiety. She was going to need The Force and _then some_ in order to handle this entire project by Anakin’s life day…

“Commander,” that was Rex at her shoulder. She turned. Rex was smiling, one finger jabbed at something above them. _Great,_ she thought, following his eyes. _Are we under attack now too?_

“Padawan,” her comm. link chortled in Master Yoda’s familiar voice. “Help, Master Sinube said you need. Brought reinforcements, I have,” ten Jedi star cruisers leapt from hyper-space in front of them. The Force writhed about her ears, giggling at her slack-jawed astonishment.

“How can we help, young Padawan?” Master Mundi inquired as the cruisers loomed above them, goliaths in the universe and The Force. Ahsoka cheeks stung from grinning.

Now _this_ was about to get interesting.

“Sorry Padme, I’ve gotta go,” she told the senator, who was also staring wide eyed at the new assistance. Padme let out a tiny _huh_ and nodded.

“You handle it there. We’ve got it here,” she assured her before blinking away. Ahsoka crossed her arms and craned her neck to get a better view of these reinforcements Master Yoda had procured. As she did, the belly of the cruisers opened slowly, releasing ships and AT-AT Walkers and clones and Jedi in droves. It was as if the universe was birthing a thousand new stars. Beautiful.

“Masters,” Ahsoka said. “Welcome to the Shmi Skywalker Freedom Rehabilitation Center. We have a lot of work to accomplish…”


	7. The Unveiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka finally shows Anakin his gift.

“It’s about _time_ the Council assigned us somewhere,” Anakin groused. Ahsoka blinked several times, pulled from her almost sleep haze. So far, her record for days without sleep was four. She had not exactly been keeping track, but it would not have surprised her to learn that she had just broken that record while building.

Anakin was staring at her from the pilot’s seat of The Twilight. She guessed that meant he expected some kind of agreement. “Yeah, it has been awhile, huh?” She tried. Anakin arched a brow but went back to the dashboard to flick at more buttons. Ahead of them, The Hurling Spit floated docilely in space. The purplish ray shield protecting its atmosphere was fogged over with artificial clouds.

Ahsoka smiled. Not bad at all.

“Figures it would be on my Life day too,” Anakin continued. He squinted at the meteorite. “I wonder what’s so important about this Republic out-station. On a meteorite no less. I didn’t even know it was possible to build a station on a moving meteorite.”

“The physics of it are very complex…” She mumbled. Artoo whistled a question behind them and she straightened in her seat beneath Anakin’s quizzical glance. “I mean, I think so anyway.” Force, she really was exhausted, but not even bone-deep weariness could dull the excitement she felt at the prospect that Anakin would finally get to see his gift.

 _The galaxy’s_ gift.

“What have you been up too, lately? You look drained,” Anakin asked. Ahsoka waved a dismissive hand.

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

Ah, and now she had made Master Skywalker suspicious. Unpleasant, but not unfair considering her track record. “I’m not going to hear about it from The Council, am I?” He demanded. Ahsoka bit back a smile.

“Um… I wouldn’t hold out hope for that.”

He sighed. “Ahsoka, look, I know we often interpret the Council’s edicts pretty loosely, but you can’t just…”

“Oh, look, we’re here!” _Thank The Force._ Ahsoka leaned over the dashboard, lightly slapping away Anakin’s hand. She pressed the comm button to hail the meteorite’s private channel. “Center SSFR-1 this is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano. We’re coming aboard,” she informed them.

Rex sent back a set of affirmative beeps. A small square section of the ray shield opened, and The Twilight sailed through. It popped back into place behind them. Artoo squealed as they arced through thin clouds to the surface. A thin drizzle had begun. 

“Ok what is up with you?” Anakin hissed. “You know it’s _my_ job to call us in. I’m surprised they even let us pass,” Ahsoka just grinned and gave him a shrug. Anakin huffed, arms crossed, eyes locked on the ground. “What kind of station is this anyway? Is that grass?” He demanded as The Twilight landed facing away from the front entrance.

“It’s buckwheat grass. Edible for a lot of species,” she corrected.

“How do you even _know_ that?”

“Just come with me, Sky-Guy. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He squawked. “Ahsoka, we’re on a _mission!”_

Ahsoka stood. And since when has that ever stopped you? She wanted to ask. But now wasn’t the time for bickering. She nabbed their cloaks from the storage, snatching the small blindfold she’d brought as well. “Will you just trust me?”

Anakin and Artoo exchanged a long look. The Force was uneasy. At length, Anakin exhaled a slow breath and stood. “Ok, fine.”

Ahsoka was touched by his faith in her. She rolled on the heels of her feet, impatient. “Good. Put this on your eyes,” she tossed him the blindfold. Anakin’s alarm skyrocketed. He held the blindfold loosely.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

 _I don’t have time for your apprehension, Anakin._ Ahsoka donned her cloak, raised the hood and waltzed past him. “C’mon. The others are waiting,” she called over her shoulder. Now she had piqued his interest. Even Artoo followed her, whirring curiously.

“ _What_ others?” Anakin called. Seeing that she was not going to stop anytime soon, he donned the cloak and blindfold, grumbling. “Ahsoka! Wait for me!”

“I knew you’d come around,” Ahsoka teased. She gently grabbed his wrist, dragging him outside. The rain tapped lightly on the top of their hoods as they rounded The Twilight and came to stand before the Center.

The architecture was stunning. The building, sporting six incredible stories, was built to look like an enormous petal bud, its top a series of spiraling inlets that settled into a circular disk on the ground. From space, it appeared merely as an oddly shaped rock or plant. The same rocks that were already scattered across the meteorites surface.

Lights dotted the underside of the roof, illuminating the grounds. Short tufts of buckwheat had begun to grow, alongside the fruit trees and flowers The Agri-Corps had planted. Above the circular entrance was a sign glowing the same blue as Anakin’s saber.

Artoo whistled with delight. Anakin halted right behind her. “Ok, you got me Snips. Can I take this thing _off_ now? I hate blindfolds. I feel like a Padawan again,” he growled. Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“Go ahead.”

Ahsoka was not sure if she were ready to look at Anakin’s face yet, but she heard the hitch in his breath. “Um…” He began, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “What is this?”

Ahsoka folded her arms into opposite sleeves, suddenly self-conscious. “This is… The Shmi Skywalker Freedom Rehabilitation Center,” she shrugged uncomfortably. “Happy life-day.”

“The…” Anakin shook his head. “Ahsoka, _what_ is going on?”

“It’s a center dedicated to helping escaped or freed slaves start new lives. It’s on a moving meteorite so that it would be harder for slave catchers to track it. I led the construction,” she explained. Now the force unfurled, a mixture of shock, awe and… Something else. An emotion too deep for words, shivering at the edge of the unforbidden. Anakin’s voice was husky when he asked his next question.

“You did all this… for _me?” Well, who else?_

“Now you know why I’m so tired,” she quipped. Now she looked up. Anakin’s jaw was hanging open, face flushed a deep scarlet and twinkling eyes glued to the saber-blue sign that bore his mother’s name. He blinked rapidly. Artoo surged forward into Anakin’s knees, forcing him to stumble forward. Closer.

“Did you do all of this on your own?”

That startled a laugh out of her. “Force _no_ ,” she gasped. “There were hundreds of people involved in planning, executing and keeping this a secret. I had a lot of help,” knowing that they were inside, watching the entire thing via the security cameras, Ahsoka waved. “Meet the other members of my team.”

A second later, the doors in front of them hissed open. “Padme? Obi-wan?” Anakin gasped, his voice cracking at the end. Padme wasted no time in throwing her arms around his neck, squeezing tight.

“Happy life day, Ani. I know your mother would be proud,” she said. Anakin shook his head as if he wanted to dislodge a troublesome dream. Hand pressed to his temple, he turned to Obi-wan who stood there with rain dripping from the ends of his hair. His smile, however, was warm.

“I thought you were on Chisszk!”

Obi-wan shrugged. “You didn’t honestly believe I’d miss your twenty-fifth life-day, did you?” He teased. Her master’s jaw dropped for a second time that day. Then, he let out a watery laugh.

“Ok, this is surreal. I’m not entirely sure I’m not dreaming right now but I’ll play along. _How_ did you three pull this off? How long have you been planning it?” He asked. Before Ahsoka could attempt to answer any of those questions (and honestly, she was not sure if she could) the doors opened again, revealing Rex, Cody, Master Plo and Yoda. The four of them trudged out.

“We’ve tested and re-tested the core, sir,” Rex reported, saluting. “It’s all ready to go. Based off our calculations, the solar panels should siphon enough energy to keep this place running another hundred years or more.”

“Oh good,” Ahsoka breathed. “Thank you.”

Anakin looked as if someone had just punched him in the face. “And…. Rex? Cody? Master _Yoda?”_ Ahsoka giggled. Rex and Cody crossed their arms, self-satisfied smiles set firmly I place.

“Happy life-day, sir,” Rex greeted. Cody nodded. Master Yoda grunted as he stepped forward, pointy ears sticking out of his protective hood. He wiggled them mischievously, eyes glinting.

“Hmm, many happy returns Skywalker. Many people, you seem to have inspired, hmm?”

“I can’t… I can’t believe you did all of this for me…”

“Your Padawan was most determined,” Master Plo informed him. Ahsoka blushed.

“Your story moved us,” she explained. “Everyone. This was a project undertaken by thousands of people, master. Jedi masters and clones and Separatists and republicans. Your story is a source of strength for people all over the galaxy. We thought you deserved to know that,” she explained. Anakin gulped, so Padme stepped in to squeeze his arm compassionately.

“And to know that while she may not be with us, your mother’s legacy of selflessness and generosity will always live on. Through you. Through places like this,” Padme gestured at The Center, then their small team. “Through all of us.”

Anakin shook his head slowly. “I… I don’t know what to say…”

“If only that happened in the Council chambers more often,” Obi-wan teased.

“Dream, it would be,” Yoda sighed. Master Plo grumbled agreement.

“Let’s take a tour,” Padme suggested, patting Artoo on his domed head. “This place is huge and soon it’ll be full of people ready to begin new and great lives.” Ahsoka had been waiting for someone to suggest a practical next move. She tugged at Anakin’s cloak sleeve.

“Come on, master! Come see inside!”

“Um...” Anakin chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Ok. Ok! Alright, alright! Lead the way!”


	8. The Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin gets a tour of his Life-day gift and is once more surprised.

Anakin Skywalker had never felt so floored.

He followed Ahsoka through the halls of his mother’s center in a daze, his mind half caught in the realm of shock. The floors were marble, slick with new wax, sparkling and bright and new. The light brown and blue of the walls radiated calm and safety. Personnel charged past, either in the form of clone, surgeon, architect or Jedi. Every one of them carried a last-minute detail. Pots or machinery or new droids or holo-books. Each greeted Ahsoka personally.

His Padawan was glowing. Not only physically but The Force around her was fairly _radiant_ with something… Something else. He had seen it in her of course. As he’d once told Master Plo _no one_ had her kind of determination. But for the first time it stood obvious in front of his eyes. A diamond finally twinkling from the harshness of stone.

More than once tears caught in his eyes and he had to swallow them hard. Padme walked on his right, so close he could feel the heat of her body. The only thing that could have made this moment more perfect was if he could put his arms around her, press his nose into the flowing locks of her hair and just breathe.

Ahsoka walked backwards as she spoke, leading the way. “Ok, so this is the first infirmary to remove tracker chips, heal scars and start physical therapy,” she said, gesturing to a glass door on their left. “I got the idea from Governor Rishi actually. He said that a lot of his people are having trouble after their surgeries because they can’t get physical therapy.”

The tour went on and on, interspersed with commentary or additions from the others

“This is the garden. Master Yoda suggested it because he says that gardening is good for healing, and every healer I’ve talked too says his theory is backed by science. Hence,” a shrug.

“Many gardens in The Temple, have we. Their purpose, what did you think was?”

“Look Ani, this is the Family Reunion Project Room. In case families have been sold or stolen away from each other. They can potentially search through thousands of databases to find their loved ones.”

“The Archives,” Obi-wan explained, with a gentle hand on his arm. “Where they can learn to read and write over two thousand languages,” a shared memory sizzled between them, of Anakin’s dual frustration and delight as Obi-wan taught him to read and write basic, the long night’s they’d spent going over letters and sounds.

Even Rex and Cody chipped in at times, thoughtful and a bit shy. “Oh, and these are the dorms, sir. Cody and I helped the architect’s style them after the dorms where we grew up on Kamino. Clean and comfortable, but also with a lot of structure. We’d figure it would be good for the new ones to have a little stability so soon after a bad situation.”

Ahsoka, Padme and Obi-wan took their turn staring at him, searching his expression for any signs of dislike or criticism. Anakin barely breathed the entire time. He could only smile and nod, completely taken aback by the entire thing. Only Artoo’s occasional pinched to the backs of his knees goaded a word or two from him.

“Alright, second floor. This is the mental health unit. It has therapists and mind healers of many species.”

“Here’s the databases. With statistics and facts about all the slave-holding planets. It’s a lot,” there were millions of names on the list scrolling before his eyes. The others stared as well with hard eyes. “Hopefully, this place can start to make a dent.”

“ _This,”_ Ahsoka finally declared as they strode into the last room. People of all species crowded round. A row of blinking machinery laid below a large viewport window. It looked like the bridge of The Resolute. “Is mission control. The meteorite still zings around the galaxy, but now it can be steered. No crashing into planets for this one,”

“I heard our core system is working as well,” a parched voice cracked from their left. Anakin turned. He promptly choked on his next inhale. Not only did Master Windu, Gallia, Mundi and Plo stand there in holographic form, their blue bodies emitting a low whir. Master Sinube appeared in person, a small hearth fire in the Force that stained Anakin’s surprise with genuine amusement. “Ah, Master Skywalker,” the elder Jedi said, with a nod of his head. “Happy life-day.”

“Thank you,” Anakin peeped. How many surprises were in store for him today?

Ahsoka grinned and bowed, low, at the waist. “Master Sinube.”

He chuckled, holding his cane between trembling hands. Master Windu arched a brow at Anakin’s Padawan. “I see your project was a success, Padawan,” he observed.

Ok, now he _knew_ he was dreaming.

“Wait a minute. Hold on. Time out,” he requested, waving his hands in the air. “Were you in on this, Master?” He demanded.

Windu usually glared at him. This time, the stare was decidedly smug though. “Oh most assuredly,” he agreed. “I imagine you were surprised?” That was one way to put it. Completely taken aback, star-struck, absolutely astonished was more accurate.

“How much of the Council knew?”

“The entirety,” Master Mundi assured him, with a smile. “Your Padawan was most persuasive,” he turned to Ahsoka, who shrugged.

“Master Kenobi has been helping me with my persuasion skills,” she explained. Anakin narrowed his eyes at her. _More like her deception skills_ , he shot at his old master in the Force. Obi-wan kept his expression decidedly innocent.

“You used the Council to distract me!” He realized.

“And impart wisdom unto you,” Master Gallia chortled. That was fair. Really.

Anakin took one step backwards. His cheeks and forehead felt hot and he knew that he had probably turned completely maroon by now. He kept his gaze locked with Ahsoka, hoped that she could feel even a modicum of his gratitude in their bond.

“I really don’t know what to say. I don’t have words to describe how wonderful this all is,” he admitted, speaking to the council but never breaking eye contact from her. “I still can’t believe it’s for me.”

“The galaxy,” Master Windu corrected sharply. All eyes snapped to his grave countenance. “It bears your mother’s name for her courage and generosity. Make no mistake Skywalker, this gift is to the galaxy. It just happens to also land on your life-day.”

Usually, this would have rankled him, but Anakin was in a generous mood. Besides, Windu’s words actually had a bit of a relieving effect on him. He bowed his head. “Whatever you say, Master.” Windu grumbled deep in his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose. He seemed to do that a lot when Anakin was around.

“Obi-wan, I trust I’ll see you here on Chizzsk?” Windu continued. Obi-wan bowed an affirmative.

“Yes, Master Windu. I’m on my way now,” he promised. Anakin was reaching out to grab Obi-wan before he could think about it. He snatched a handful of familiar white tabbards.

“You’re leaving?” He squeaked.

Obi-wan laid a soothing hand atop his, eased him away. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. Cody and I need to get back to the frontlines,” he gave a nod to his commander. Cody saluted and with seconds, he and Rex left to prepare a ship. Obi-wan folded his hands behind his back. “Ahsoka, very well done. Especially in a two-week timeframe,” he congratulated.

“You did all this in _two weeks?!”_

Ahsoka laughed. “I told you I’m exhausted. I couldn’t have accomplished any of this without you, Master. Thank you,” she told Obi-wan. He shook his head.

“Oh no. As you said, this effort was undertaken by hundreds. It is I who should be thanking you Ahsoka,” Obi-wan squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve taught me some powerful lessons in compassion these past weeks. You’ll take a well-earned rest, I take it?”

“You know me, Master.”

“Of course,” Obi-wan breathed affectionately. “Always on the move. The both of you,” the hand that Obi-wan set on their shoulders was simultaneously full of blessing, goodbye and pride. A lump blocked his airway so Anakin could only bow at the waist when Ahsoka did.

“Thank you master,” they replied in unison, to Obi-wan’s unspoken sentiment.

He nodded and with a thoughtful glance at Anakin, strode from the room. The Jedi Masters, with similar mumbles of well-wishing, also vanished. Master Sinube and Yoda waltzed away together, their canes tapping at the floor like gongs in the distance.

“I need to get going, too,” Padme sighed. “There’s a senate vote tonight on a new amendment. Anakin, I would love to sit down and have lunch with you before you head out again. For old times sakes,” she added quickly.

Anakin nodded, heart leaping with joy. “It would be my honor, senator,” he breathed.

“Padme, thank you!” Ahsoka cried, separating them by ramming into Padme full throttle and hugging her around the waist. “I couldn’t have done this without you! And I know you might have a headache for a while,” she said. Padme chuckled softly and squeezed Ahsoka tight.

“You’re an incredible leader, Ahsoka,” she said. Anakin’s chest constricted. _My girls,_ he thought in the deepest light of his soul. _I am **so** lucky. The luckiest man in the universe._ “The headache will be worth it. So much good will come out of this center and out of _your_ service to the Republic,” a glance encapsulated him in her statement. He grinned.

“Good day, Senator.”

“Well, its just you and me now, Master. Since we have a few hours, do you want to… Er… Take a stroll to Tatooine?”

Artoo’s domed head spun as he beeped his excitement. Ahsoka patted his head. Anakin grinned roguishly. “There’s nothing I’d rather do, Ahsoka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID ANYONE SEE THE CLONE WARS EPISODE, AHSOKA TANO IS BACK BABY, SHE CALLED ANAKIN HER OLDER BROTHER AND SHE LOOKS GREAT IN THOSE PANTS!
> 
> That is all.


	9. Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Ahsoka write thank you notes.

Anakin Skywalker had never been so content.

It was another two days before he and Ahsoka left the Shmi Skywalker Freedom Center. In that time, they secretly liberated over two hundred slaves from planets in the outer rim, ushering them into the relative safety of the Center. They only stopped when the council noticed their semi-legal activities and gave a veiled _cease-and-desist_ order.

Upon his return to Courascant, he had gone to the Senate Building and in a streak of luck, caught Padme in a moment of downtime. That downtime had turned into a night where they disguised themselves in civilian clothing. They’d walked through the dingy streets of downtown Courascant like normal people, able to kiss and hug and laugh together in public. It had been so freeing he’d felt intoxicated with laughter and joy.

Now, he waltzed back into his and Ahsoka’s shared quarters. The sun was beginning to wink over the horizon, bathing their quarters in an eerie orange glow. The door slid open quietly and he sensed Ahsoka before he saw her.

She was sitting at one of the only clean spaces of the entire apartment. She’d obviously turned out the lights. Instead, she hunched over something by candlelight. The small balls levitated mid-air.

They were a popular meditation tool for the younglings, and as such glowed a variety of colors, teal, magenta, gold, violet. By those dazzling colors, Ahsoka’s brown skin seemed to radiate from within, a lantern shielded by darkness.

Not for the first time, Anakin was taken aback by her beauty and strength.

“Ahsoka?” He called softly, with a sudden pang of guilt. Leaving her alone while he frolicked about the city was hardly a proper way to thank her for all she’d done. 

When she looked up, there was no blame in her eyes however. She must have been deep in the Force. It cradled her sluggishly, and her eyes were glassy and far-away. “Oh,” she said, with a shake of her head. “Hey master. Where’ve you been?”

He struggled for an acceptable excuse for his absence, but looking at Ahsoka, he was not sure she knew how long had passed. Had she been meditating this entire time? “Senator Amidala got out of her vote early. I took her to dinner,” he confessed, slowly. He watched her expression for a reaction. Nothing. The Force did not even wiggle.

“Cool,” Ahsoka ducked her head back to the project at hand. “How was it?”

Anakin threw his cloak to the side. It landed on a half-disfigured droid. He strode over, grabbing an extra chair on his way and sat it beside her. “We went to that new Mon Cala place downtown. We managed to get a private room, so no one interrupted us. It was great.”

A thoughtful noise in the back of her throat, halfway between a growl and purr. Shaak Ti made the sound a lot in The Council Chambers when she was satisfied. “I’m glad.”

He looked over her shoulder; and was taken aback by the small flimsy squares she was writing on. Where had she even _gotten_ flimsy? “What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m writing thank you notes to everyone who helped me with this project,” she cringed and rubbed her wrist. “It’s a long list.”

“Need a hand?”

“Please.”

He accepted the stylus she handed him and the small stack of flimsy. Glancing at her message, he added some words of his own. He had never been good at words, especially those of gratitude, but they seemed to come easily now. Perhaps it was because he had never felt more grateful for anything in his life. Speaking of which… He inhaled a deep breath and looked up. “Snips, I don’t even know how to start thanking _you…”_

“Maybe you shouldn’t then,” Ahsoka interrupted calmly. She did not look up, but the stylus in her hand wavered a bit. “Maybe we can just say that we’re… Even?” She continued, in a small voice. Anakin startled, taken aback by the request.

“Even for _what_?” He demanded. Ahsoka sighed.

“You took me under your wing when you didn’t have too,” she said, as if pointing out an extremely easy puzzle for a youngling. As if _everyone_ knew this. “Master Yoda and Obi-wan tricked you into doing it even though you didn’t want too. Yet, I’ve learned so much and become such a better person. That’s all because of you, so… We’re even now,” a pause. “Kinda?”

“Ahsoka,” he whispered, shattered by the sudden admission because _Force_ , where had this even come from? Had he ever given her reason to think she’d somehow been a burden on him? His heart felt as if someone had just squeezed it into two tight fists. Anakin recalled feeling the exact same way, as if the Force itself had shoved him into Obi-wan’s unwilling arms.

He’d _hated_ that feeling.

“That’s not true,” he insisted. Anakin laid a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, I may not have expected a Padawan, and our meeting may have been… Untraditional,” he smiled at the memory, reached over to tip Ahsoka’s chin so that she could see and sense his sincerity. “But I have _always_ wanted you Ahsoka. Being your teacher has been the greatest honor of my life. And of all the incredible beings I meet every day, you… _You_ are _my_ hero. I owe _you_. Big time.”

Deep azure eyes widened at the admission. Her montrals bled purple, the hue of embarrassment, and the Force rumbled with emotion. It sloshed over the rim of her self-control. Ahsoka sniffled and jerked her head away. Anakin gave her a moment to collect herself, mainly because his own eyes felt a bit misty right about now. “Ah… So, did you really have no idea what was happening?” She asked at length. Anakin laughed.

“Are you joking?” He chuckled, shoving her playfully. “You took me completely by surprise. I didn’t even notice you were gone most days the Council kept me so busy. You’re going to have to tell me how you managed to talk _Mace Windu_ into going along with this one day…”

Ahsoka shook her head, smiling. “He was happy to do it. I told you, master, you are an inspiration in this temple. I know you have your differences with a lot of other Jedi, but they truly do respect and appreciate you,” she said. Anakin wanted to believe that. He had craved the approval of other Jedi when he was younger, but now, it made little difference to him. He knew whose opinions he cared about.

“Hmm. Or maybe they respect and appreciate _you?_ ” He suggested slyly. Ahsoka’s breath hitched and for a second she looked as if she might faint of mortification right there. So humble, his Padawan. So different than when they had met. “Ever thought of that?”

“Nope. And I’m not going too,” he chuckled. “And anyway, I didn’t do it alone. Padme was instrumental of course. Master Obi-wan was on board from the very beginning. Padme dealt with her political enemies all night and Master Kenobi even went to Jabiim to get us the materials needed to create the stabilizing bubble.”

Anakin gave a start. Ordinarily, such a decision would be grounds for him to want to kill Obi-wan for his martyrdom, but that was not appropriate in this case. “Really?” He asked. Ahsoka glanced at him askance.

“Yeah. I tried to get him to let me go, but…”

“Yeah,” he assured her. “I’ll catch him when he returns from Chisszk….” Then, noticing that Ahsoka was swaying where she sat (had she been writing thank you cards for the past two days?) he cocked his head. “Hey Snips?”

“Yes?” She asked.

“Why don’t you let me finish these?” Without waiting for an answer, her slid her stack to his side, smiled gently. “You look like you’re about to keel over.” A quick nudge with The Force reinforced his point.

“Probably,” Ahsoka agreed, yawning. Sharp teeth glinted in the candlelight. “Sorry. A lot of late nights lately,” Anakin waved a dismissive hand, watching her stumble to her feet affectionately.

“Don’t even worry about it. Get some rest. We’ve probably only got a few days in the Temple before we’re deployed again.”

 _What might it have been like to train her in peacetime?_ He wondered, not for the first time. Would his inherent restlessness cause a rift in their teaching relationship? Would they operate as some other Jedi did, as virtual rogues of The Order, bouncing from planet to planet in pursuit of their own ends? Would he be more patient? Less strict?

“Good point,” Ahsoka wobbled, chuckled at her own clumsiness softly. He reached out to steady her. “Goodnight Anakin.”

“Night Snips,” he said over his shoulder. Ahsoka started toward her bedroom. Just before the doors opened, Anakin inhaled a deep breath and released his reservations. He surged to his feet, one hand on the chair behind him. “Oh, and Padawan?” He called.

“Yes…” Ahsoka had not fully turned around before he gathered her against him. So tightly his own ribs creaked with the strain. “Umph!” Ahsoka cried into his shoulder.

He held her as if the universe would end in the morning, his prosthetic wrapped around her shoulders and the other hand cradling her back Lekku. “Thank you,” Anakin whispered thickly. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_.”

_I love you._

Ahsoka laughed, and her thin arms squeezed him in a surprisingly steady grip. “Of course, Anakin,” she whispered. “Of course.”


	10. Last Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-wan have a long-overdue talk about Anakin's relationship with Shmi Skywalker.

When he walked into the Healers after another successful mission, he found an old friend being harassed by another old friend. “Now aren’t you glad I made you get that shot?” Bant demanded, smugly, standing victorious and smiling over her tamed enemy.

Obi-wan lay flat on his back, a bandage wrapped around his forehead. Spots of blood had already soaked through, but his Force signature was bright as ever. Anakin leaned in the doorway, used the Force to mask himself as he watched. This, at least, was a familiar sight.

“Gloating isn’t the Jedi way, Bant,” Master Obi-wan grouched as Bant fluttered about, checking his IV bag, straightening the blankets around him, making sure his saber was well out of his reach.

“I’m not gloating. I’m making a point, Master Kenobi. You’d be dead if Ahsoka and I hadn’t talked you into getting this inoculation,” Bant sing-songed.

“The Force would have found a way.”

“It did. It’s called a _vaccine.”_

“Nonsense.”

“You stubborn, bantha headed…”

Anakin decided that this might be the moment to step into the light. Bant and Obi-wan looked up when he cleared his throat. “Oh. Hi Bant. Is he causing trouble again?” Bant grinned, her large lips stretching into a blubbery line.

“You know him,” drawled the Master Healer. Obi-wan slapped a hand to his chest, pretending affront. She rolled her eyes before turning back to him. “Oh, Ani, I heard about your life-day gift. It looks so beautiful, and you deserve it fully…”

He grinned. Bant had always been kind to him. “Thanks Bant. I’ll take Master grumpy off your hands now,” he offered, gesturing to the prone Jedi. Obi-wan glowered.

“You’re a miracle,” Bant flashed another brilliant smile, a slightly relieved one, and pivoted on webbed feet to glare at Obi-wan. “If I come back and you’ve escaped, I will be _most displeased_ , Obi,” she informed him. She snatched his saber from the table. “I’ll make sure _this_ is kept out of troublesome hands,” she called.

“Bant! That’s my _life_ you’re stealing!”

“Do I need to sic Quin-lan on you?”

The threat, as usual, was more than enough to get Obi-wan to behave. He raised his hands in defeat, blanching. “Fine. Take it then. I’ll be good.”

“I _thought_ so,” she declared, marching from the room like General Grievous when he’d bested an entire Republic fleet. The image made him snicker as he sent the image to Obi-wan via their bond. “See you, Ani.”

He waved. “Bye Bant,” Obi-wan gave him a very familiar glare of exasperation.

“Very funny, Anakin.”

“I thought so too,” He grabbed a chair and rolled it to Obi-wan’s bedside, placing his elbows on the bed. “So, what happened this time?”

Master Obi-wan exhaled a slow breath and leaned into his abundant pillows as if his good care was an inconvenience. Masochistic barve. “Oh, the usual. Bombs, explosions and droids. It was quite standard, actually, you would have been bored. How has it been in the Temple?”

He shrugged. “The same. Master Yoda borrowed Ahsoka for a training mission to Ilum, so I’ve been here tinkering with your fighter.”

“Why mine?”

“It needed updates!”

“Oh no. Please tell me it won’t immediately crash the moment I rise from the ground.”

“Have some faith in me Obi-wan.”

Obi-wan flung an arm over his eyes in exaggerated despair. “It’s going to crash. I knew it. How could you betray me like this, Anakin? I thought we were friends,” he bit the inside of his lip to prevent a laugh from escaping. If Obi-wan knew he was funny, Anakin might never get any work done when they were on mission together. Obi-wan had entirely too much fun trying to crack him.

He softened. “We _are_ friends,” he agreed. Obi-wan peeked out from behind an arm, impish grin still in place. “Listen, master, I never got a chance to…”

“Don’t say it.”

Anakin threw his hands up. “Oh, come on! You, Ahsoka and Padme won’t let me thank you!”

Obi-wan sighed and lowered his arm. He craned his neck to give Anakin a knowing look. How was it that he could make Anakin feel like a Padawan, lectured and naïve, even injured on a bed in the med-bay? It really wasn’t fair. “That’s because we require no such thing, Anakin. It was our utmost pleasure, and a long overdue sentiment. Besides, the good it will do for the galaxy is more than enough thanks.”

“Ahsoka and I already…”

“Master Windu told me,” Obi-wan assured him dryly. “Subtlety has never been your strong suit, Anakin.” He grinned.

“Everything I know, I learned from…”

“Don’t mock me. I’m in a vulnerable state,” Obi-wan scolded him, with a light slap on the arm. Anakin snickered. Suddenly, Obi-wan’s eyes dimmed, as if he had just remembered something unpleasant. He squirmed in bed until he was sitting up. “Hmm. Instead of wasting your time trying to thank me for doing my job, instead, allow me to offer my apologies.”

Anakin gave a start. “For _what?”_

Obi-wan did not meet his gaze. Instead, his eyes wandered to some indistinguishable spot on the floor. “When your mother died, I didn’t offer much support. I admit I had no iota of a clue what you were going through, and so I tried to make you release your grief instead of work through it. I see now that was wrong, and unhelpful. I’m sorry.”

Anakin did not realize he had backed away until Obi-wan’s eyes snapped up to meet his, halfway across the room. Anakin suddenly felt naked, an old scar exposed to harsh sunlight. He hadn’t told Obi-wan about Shmi’s death. He hadn’t told anyone except for Padme. “You know that she’s…?”

“Do you honestly believe I did not feel your pain?” Obi-wan asked softly, brow furrowing. That had never occurred to him. Questions flooded his mind. He knew Obi-wan had sensed something that day. His master had known he’d snuck away with Padme to Tatooine too, but he’d always assumed Obi-wan merely thought he’d visited Shmi and his sadness was a result of having to leave her again. He exhaled, slowly, tried to gather the floating pieces of his emotions into some semblance of control. He tasted the apology, tossed it around in his mind for a moment, and the truth came hurtling to him like a lightning bolt.

“You’ve been forgiven a long time, master,” he realized. “But thank you.”

Obi-wan only nodded. “Good. Now, I, too had a gift for your life day. Hand me my cloak,” he ordered, pointing to the folded pile of clothes on the table behind him. Anakin obeyed, even as he protested.

“An apology _and_ a gift? Obi-wan, I literally _cannot_ accept anything else today. My heart is too weak.”

“There is no emotion,” Obi-wan reminded him. Anakin handed him his cloak, and to his surprise, Obi-wan turned it inside out and ripped a hole in the lining at the bottom. He shook the fabric until a tiny object rattled free. He held it out as if it were a precious gem. “Besides, I believe you’re ready for this.”

“A… data-chip?” He asked. He pinched it between thumb and forefinger, brows raised. “Thanks. I only have ten billion.”

Obi-wan smiled. “It’s what’s on the chip that I think you’ll find noteworthy. It’s from your mother, Anakin. Shmi.”

For about the eightieth time that week, Anakin was floored. He nearly dropped the data-chip, only managing to snag it from the air in the Force. He cradled it to his chest as if it were his mother itself, gawking. “W-what? What are you talking about?”

Obi-wan nodded slowly. “She gave it to me to give to you. You must have been sixteen or so…I-I knew that it was difficult for you to attain closure. Balance alluded you and Master Yoda and I thought it might have had to do with her enslavement, so… I called in a few favors. Sent you away for a few rotations and traveled to Tatooine. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case I was unable to free her. So I never told you.”

Anakin felt heat itch his eyes. He blinked it away rapidly.

“Why didn’t you bring her back?”

Obi-wan was silent for a long moment, searching for words. His Force signature was squirming, uncomfortable. “She wanted to stay,” he explained, glancing at Anakin warily, as if to gauge his reaction. “By that time, she had already met a man named Lars. He was a good man. He had been saving for years to buy her freedom and I provided a tiny boost in his funds. It was safer that way for everyone. We spent an afternoon together. I told her how you were. The things you’d done and accomplished,” he grinned.

“Force, was she was proud, Anakin. So _proud._ But she wasn’t surprised. You need to know that. She always knew you were destined for great and important things. She gave _stellar_ advice, by the way,” Anakin was still trying to envision his master and mother sitting down together, sipping caf and discussing Anakin’s achievements and drawbacks. He closed his eyes as a flood of tears threatened to overwhelm him.

“Yeah…” he gulped past a clogged throat. “I know.”

“Before I left, she gave me that and told me to only give it you when you were ready.”

“I lived for years… Thinking she was still a slave… Why didn’t you tell me you’d helped free her? Why didn’t you take me to _see_ her?” He demanded. His voice cracked, and Obi-wan’s expression fell.

“Anakin, I _wanted_ to tell you but when we spoke about it…” Obi-wan said, voice strained. “We agreed that seeing her would only cause you to lose your Way. She wanted nothing more than for you to finish your Jedi training. I’m sorry Anakin. I… I just didn’t know how to help you. But Ahsoka has shown me that not all of us need to forsake the past to find balance. This is yours,” now Obi-wan looked away. “Are you angry with me?”

Anakin turned the data-chip over in his hands. He was a little too overwhelmed to answer that question, so he posed one of his own. “You said mom gave good advice. What did you ask her about?” Obi-wan dipped his head.

“You have a Padawan of your own now. I think you know what I asked.”

“Yeah…” Anakin nodded slowly; eyes riveted to the chip. It was so small, worn. How long had Obi-wan kept it stashed in his cloak? And _how?_ He went through them like a Gundark goes through teeth. Anakin stared at the brown fabric. “That’s Master Qui-gon’s cloak,” he gasped.

Obi-wan shrugged, but his fingers soothed a random wrinkle in the cloak with tenderness. “I needed a safe place to put it. I thought it fitting that her last words to you should remain with the man who found you.” Never let it be said that his master was an emotional man, but he _was_ a thoughtful one. The shock and anger of the past moment fled, replaced by sprinkling of gratitude that suddenly became a flood. He clenched the chip tight and released a slow exhale.

“I’m glad you had a chance to meet her, Obi-wan,” he whispered. He looked up, and grinned. “ _I’m_ glad I got to meet you.”

Obi-wan, if it was possible, seemed to shrink a bit in bed, as if waiting for a blow. “But?” _Oh master, how could you ever believe otherwise._

“I told Ahsoka yesterday that being her teacher has been the greatest honor of my life,” and it held true. Obi-wan gave a crooked half-smile and they exchanged a meaningful look. Anakin felt, in his bones, the Force give a resounding hum. He continued huskily. “Well, being your friend has been the greatest gift of my life, and it _always_ will be,” he bowed at the waist, lower than he ever had. “ _Thank_ you, Obi-wan.”

Obi-wan’s face registered shock, then something else. Something deeper, more profound. “I believe you have a recording to watch,” he pointed out, quietly. His eyes shone. Anakin straightened.

“You’ll be fine here?” He asked. Obi-wan jerked his head to the door.

“You know Bant will scarcely let me out of her sight without proper supervision. I assure you if we’re attacked by Sith, I’ll be well looked after,” he didn’t sound too happy about that fact. Anakin laughed.

“Good. Oh, and, uh, this is for you,” he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, and handed it to Obi-wan. The older Jedi took it with a solemn nod. They had shared sabers before, but usually in the mindless heat of battle. Right now, this exchange meant something. Safety. Friendship. Forgiveness. Trust. And trouble for Bant. He winked. “You know, in case we’re attacked by Sith.”

Obi-wan grinned and hid the saber beneath his blankets. “You’re a good man, Anakin.”

He shrugged. “My master raised me well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter


	11. Last Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin watches his mother's last message and reflects on all he holds dear.

Anakin carried the data-chip on his person for two days.

Obi-wan didn’t mention it again. Ahsoka could sense something was up, but since she was still catching up on sleep from her last encounter with his mother’s memory, she left him alone. It stayed in his inside pocket for mission briefings, strategic meetings, sparring sessions and clone battalion drills. In the meantime, he mentioned it to _no one._ Not even the Chancellor. He wasn’t quite ready to introduce it to the world. It was his, irrevocably. Just as his mother’s love has once been his, so private and intimate that it felt… Gross to speak of it aloud.

Or maybe he carried it around because he didn’t know what to do with it.

He had believed that he would never hear his mother’s voice again, and even as he had come face-to-face with her memory several times this week, having her _words_ with him was… It was strange. A reward and a burden. Now he had to face her last words to him, her last wishes.

He did not feel ready, or worthy. He had no idea what had made Obi-wan think he was prepared for this honor.

Ideally, he would have spent weeks with it. He would have had years to conjure the bravery, but he was Jedi, so he was called back to the field. To join the siege of the Scandar system. It would be a month’s long campaign, maybe. It would be hard and grueling and bloody. He could feel it in the Force. If there was ever a time that he needed to know what his mother had seen in him, it was now.

Still, he wasn’t going to do it alone. Or _sober_.

“Are you ready?” Padme asked, as she poured him another cup of Blue Specter. It was an extraordinarily strong, exceedingly rare concoction. It wouldn’t be enough to make it past his Jedi training, but it was enough to make a cool flush break out across his skin.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, relaxing into the fluff of her couch. She looked spectacular in her loose turquoise robe. It hugged her curves and behind very nicely. If this weren’t such a somber occasion, Anakin already knew what they might have been doing.

Padme poured herself another glass of the same stuff and settled at his side, cuddling close to his chest as they stared at the holo-machine sitting on the table between their glasses, the chip already inserted. Anakin had contemplated inviting Ahsoka to see this. She deserved to see and hear from the woman she had helped create a memorial for, but this first moment, Anakin wanted to be his and his alone. He turned to fix a wobbly smile upon the love of his life. “Thank you for being here with me.”

Padme leaned over to press her lips to his. He cupped her chin. She tasted of alcohol and roses. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Padme whispered once they broke apart. She eased into the couch, keen brown eyes watching him expectantly. Anakin inhaled a deep breath.

It was time. He pressed the _play_ button and backed away. A few seconds later, the hologram flicked to life, glitched a few times, before stabilizing. Anakin’s eyes instantly began to burn, tears threatening to make an appearance. From nearly six years in the past, Shmi Skywalker grinned at her son, hands folded in front of her demurely. “Ani.”

“Mom,” he sobbed, the word yanked from his heart on the waves of longing.

Shmi shifted weight. “I don’t quite know what to say. Obi-wan has told me so much about you, about the man- the _Jedi-_ that you’re becoming and I- I have no words to describe my joy. I know Jedi cannot have children, but when I see how Obi-wan talks about you, I have hope that you might one day raise an apprentice of your own,” Padme nudged his ribs.

Anakin felt another burst of affection for the girl asleep at The Temple, awaiting another battle at his side. He wrapped an arm around Padme’s shoulders.

“That day, you will know the sheer, unbridled love and pride I carry for you in my heart,” _yes,_ he wanted to tell her, desperately. _Yes, I know now_. “I miss you, Ani. Every second of every day I wonder where you are, whether you’re safe and happy. If you are living out all the dreams you had as a little boy. I have dreams, s-s-s-sometimes,” The hologram flickered dangerously. Anakin surged forward.

“No,” he pleaded. “No, I need to know what she says!” He shoved The Force forward, blindly. The hologram shook once, before the picture blinked once, twice, then cleared.

“About seeing you. I know it is only a fool’s fantasy, but if only I could touch you...” she reached out. Her hand was trembling. Anakin returned the gesture. Even if she was not real, he wanted so badly just to perceive a mere _scrap_ of the comfort she’d once brought him, the love…

Shmi’s hand fell, along with her eyes. She exhaled a shuddering breath. Her pain was like a physical stab in his heart. Rage sparked beneath his skin. How dare the Jedi claim this feeling- her devotion – was a weakness? A thing to be scorned or avoided?

How dare they _leave_ her there?

He scooted closer, as if to give her a hug. But she was beyond his reach now. “Anakin. My dearest, sweetest heart. I told Obi-wan to give this message to you when he believes you ready. I trust his judgement,”

“First name basis, huh?” Padme whispered against his ear.

Anakin nodded. It made sense that Obi-wan and his mother would have been friends. His natural selflessness would have struck a chord in his mother, who cherished generosity above all attributes. “I want to let you know that I am _safe,_ Anakin. I’m happy for the first time in my life, living with a man who loves me. Lars. If only you could meet him!” He smiled.

“You two would have gotten along so well. The long night of my slavery has ended, and you must understand that I only sent you away to bring your night to a quicker end. I have always known you are destined for great things, Ani, ever since I felt your first kick in my stomach,” her palms went to her mid-riff, as if remembering how troublesome he had been even back then. Anakin’s prosthetic caught a strand of Padme’s hair, let it flow between his fingers lovingly. How might Padme look, pregnant? What radiance would ignite within her, transferred from the beating heart of his child?

The image was startlingly perfect. A tear trickled down his face.

“I yearn to see you, but…” Shmi’s shoulder’s rose and fell heavily. “I think it best that we do not meet right now. You need to focus on your studies, learn all you can, and walk in the Light. I don’t know what struggles you’ll face in your life. I don’t know what joys you’ll discover. All I know is that you are strong enough, brave enough, smart enough to face it all, Anakin Skywalker. It is not my place to interfere with that.”

“I needed you,” he argued, hoarsely. “I _always_ needed you.”

As if she had heard, she smiled. “Don’t worry, one day we shall meet again. In the meantime, remember how much I love you. How extremely fortunate you were that Master Jinn was on Tatooine when he was, and _go_ , Anakin. Go change the universe. I know you can. I know you _will.”_

Shmi Skywalker gave her son one last look of endless love before the hologram darkened. Anakin’s lungs stalled, deflating slowly as Shmi’s voice echoed in his mind. He closed his eyes as more tears ran down his face. The lump bobbed in his throat as he tried to swallow sudden nausea. After a moment, Padme laid a hand on his shoulder. “Anakin?” She asked, cautiously.

He shook his head. There was so much he wished he could say to Shmi. So much he had wanted to say to her, but it had been too late… _Keep your mind in the here and now, where it should be._ His eyes snapped open. He took in a calming breath.

“I love you,” he could only gasp “ _Force,_ Padme… I have been so lucky,” and he was. He had everything his mother could only have dreamed to possess in her life. He had friends and purpose and power and _love._ So much love.

Padme pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “You’ve made your own luck, too,” she had too much faith in him. Anakin smiled and turned.

“Maybe, but more than that, I have had incredible people in my life who I could not live without.” Far away, in the Jedi Temple, Ahsoka stirred in bed, nudged by Anakin’s tickle of adoration. She sent back a slight surge of irritation, a subtle _go away master._

Obi-wan, entire star systems away, glanced up at his summons. He was preoccupied with battle strategy, but their bond glowed with mutual warmth. _I see you, old friend._

Padme’s snicker snapped him back into his own body. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Are you comfortable naming names?”

He laughed. “I think you know them.”

Padme grunted in agreement, and her large eyes swiveled back to the hologram on the table. One hand fisted the tunics above his chest. “I’m sorry she isn’t here with you, Anakin. She would have been so happy.”

“Maybe,” he considered. “Still, if Ahsoka has taught me anything, it’s that she is _always_ with me,” he gripped the fingers that rested above his heart. Padme looked up. “Just as you are.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she pressed closer to him, so close their breath mingled. “What do we do now?” She whispered. Anakin lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. He shivered when Padme reached up to stroke his brow with her thumbs.

“Well, tomorrow I have to change the universe,” he speculated. “What would you like to do _tonight?”_

Padme’s laugh was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He held it, as he held onto everyone he loved. “Why, Ani,” she replied, with a teasing giggle. “Change the universe, of course.”

And they did. 


End file.
